The Warband of Wolves
by indogma
Summary: Within the many kingdoms of Calradia, war grips the land. Each country wants to win no matter the cost. And in the middle of it all, a college student, Roland, is thrown into the fray. But he finds out he is not alone, and an long forgotten prophecy has for told his coming. But what does it mean? Is it fate or dumb luck? And can Roland survive the harsh life within Calradia?
1. Prologue to a Wolf, Part 1

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the Mount and Blade: Warband.

-Prologue to a Wolf-

Part One

* * *

Roland was wondering though the sea of trees in his college's local arboretum. A trip that many times before had helped him clear his mind of distractions, but this time it was failing him. With finals looming ahead and a final report on his major due within a few days he thought about his future. Unsure as to what he was doing to do after his final year of college he pressed on hoping that the forest would grant him insight.

As he wandered along, he stopped thinking about his grades and future for a moment to turn his attention to the flora. None of it looked familiar or native to this area. Recalling the other times he had taken the trip, he concluded that it was an environment experiment that the college might have been up to. He brushed the moment of fright aside to return to the path; although after about a haft hour Roland could not find the path. Assuming he had strayed far off the path, he then continued on his current direction, eventually going to the edge of the forest and circling around to the college. He knew a network of roads surrounded the arboretum, in case if a student ever got lost they could just take a road back up to campus.

Seeing that the forest started to thin, Roland's pace began to quicken. Soon he would be on the road back up to his dorm, and troubled yet again by the pressures of life. As he cleared the forest he let his eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun beating down on the cleared area. Once his vision was restored, Roland was shocked.

Outside on the forest the road had disappeared, and in its place was a grassy plain. Roland scratched his head in confusion, "Where the hell am I?" He asked himself. Peering off into the distance he saw a group of buildings, not recognizing their structure he then began to walk towards the cluster of buildings, hoping to find an idea as to where he was.

As he approached the group of build his heart began to sink and his mind became full of terror. He noticed that they resembled medieval era buildings, and the people's clothing that seemed to be from the same time. Not wanting to go into the village, he decided to ask the closest person he could see. A young girl no more than fifteen, was sitting on a bench outside of the farthest house from the rest tying a bundle of wheat together.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the local college's campus is?" Asked Roland. The girl then noticed the young man for the first time. She looked at him with fear, and looked at his clothes like they were snakes. Dropping her bundling she ran inside the building. Not knowing what just happened, Roland sighed and decided to press on to find some answers—even if it meant going inside the village.

The village itself was home to about fifty, maybe less, Roland concluded. Going to the center of town, the looks of fear continued. Every person Roland meet was avoiding him like the plague. The women were herding the children inside their houses, and the men stared at Roland like a criminal. Getting out of the village and away from the aura of distrust, he walked out to a small shack outside of the village. Leaning against the shack he tried to make sense of the events that just happened.

Then a loud musical sound came from his pocket. It was his alarm from the day before that he forgot to turn off. Slowly pulling out his phone he shut off the alarm. It was then he noticed that his phone had no service, no chance of calling for help.

After waiting a while, Roland decided to try again, despite the feeling of distrust. Walking again into the village, he stopped again in the middle of the village. This time it was deserted, not a soul in sight. Then a man walked up to Roland, "Are you lost son?" Roland looked at the man, finally some help. "Yes, can you help me?"

The men smiled, "Sure, follow me. We can talk about it in my house." The man directed the young man into a building that had its door open. Roland entered the building first, and expected the man to follow him in. Instead the door slammed behind him. Realizing he had been duped, he tried to break the door open, but when he tried to force the door open he found the door immovable. After several attempts to open the door, he gave up trying to open the door, and looked for another escape route.

Turning around he looked into the building for the first time. It was a storehouse for the village full of: dried meat, vegetables, spare mill parts and tools, as well as wool, hay and fodder for the animals. He looked around the building, and tried to force his way through a wooden wall that seemed to be weak. But he lacked the strength to push an opening. Realizing the storehouse was inescapable in his present state, Roland sat on a sack of grain, waiting for any sign of his captors. To kill time, he took out his phone and fooled around with it.

Hours passed, according to Roland's phone. And not a sound had risen from outside since he was locked in the storeroom. Whatever they were plotting they were being quiet about it.

Then he heard shuffling outside the door, like someone was moving a heavy object away from the door. Then the door shot open and two built men grabbed Roland, picked him up, and dragged him forcefully outside to a mob of what seemed to be the entire village and their parents. If there was a stereotypical mob, this village painted the picture perfectly, Roland thought, touches, pitchforks, and their eyes full of hate. Roland then felt his life was now in danger, remembering every movie he saw with a mob like this, it usually meant certain death for all of it's victims. Afraid for his life Roland struggled against the two men holding him tightly. But they had years of muscles built into their bodies. Roland was not going to be going anywhere.

Dragging him out into the street, the man who had tricked Roland into the storehouse was at the center of the mob. Having Roland stand in front of the man, he "interrogated" him in front of the crowd. "Who are you and where are you from?"

"My name is Roland," he answered, trying not to show fear, "I'm from Fargo."

His answers seemed to only to entice the crowd further. "And pray tell where that is?"

"In Minnesota," he said almost making it sound like he was taking to a child, "Right along the North Dakota line?" Roland added.

"Burn 'im already!" Came a shout from the crowd, and the crowd cheered in agreement. But the man raised his hand to quiet them down and continued the interrogation. "You stand accused of being a witch and committing acts of vile witchcraft within our humble village." Then he turned and looked Roland in the eye, "what's say you to these charges?"

"I am not a witch!" Roland was now defending himself, and his life.

"Liar!" Came another voice from the crowd. Soon the source of the accusation came forward, a dirty man who appeared to live in his own filth stepped forward and began to accuse Roland. "This man is a witch, I have seen it with my own two eyes. When he leaned over by the old shack he took out a magical brick that made strange noises!" The crowd began to mummer amongst themselves. Reaching into Roland's pocket the man presented the "brick"—Roland's phone. The dirty man then pressed one button, and the phone began to vibrate, causing the man to drop it on the ground like it was on fire.

"Witchcraft!" came the shouts from the crowd. Clearly this was enough proof to convince the village that he was a witch. The next question was: what were they going to do to Roland. The answer was grim but not unexpected, "Burn him!" Roland was now in trouble.

"Wait!" Came a shout over the cries of the villagers, and a man in a suit of armor riding a horse passed through the crowd. He had long dark hair that was pushed behind his head with a light black beard covering his face. Stopping in front of Roland he said getting off his horse, "You say this man is a witch? What proof do you have of this?" The leader then picked up the phone and handed it to the armored man. "Is this yours?' he asked after observing the phone. Roland no longer cared, all he summed up was he was screwed either way, "So what if it is?"

The armored man stepped forward and looked at Roland's clothes. He was wearing a leather jacket, a t-shirt underneath, jeans, and a pair of brown casual shoes. "The evidence is damnable, all right." He said adding, "He is a witch." Any hope of Roland being freed from this nightmare disappeared from his mind.

The crowd roared hearing this but where stopped by the armored man raising his hand, "However, this kind of witch cannot be killed by merely burning him or stoning him. No, do that and he will merely come back and possess one of your people's bodies!" The villagers turned to each other in fear, "What must we do?"

"Give him to me," the man suggested. "I know how to properly deal with his kind, without the threat of harm coming on your village. Give him to me and I will deal with him in my home in Suno!"

The villagers looked at each other, they regarded the man's proposition. He **seemed **to know what he was talking about. To Roland however he was confused by the armored man's sudden interest in him. Not knowing whether or not it was a good or bad thing. Then the village came back with their answer, and handed Roland over to the armored man.

Requesting he be bound, a rope was tied around Roland's wrists preventing him from escaping. He also requested that all possessions be given to him so he could "destroy them before the witchcraft spreads." They also tied a rope around his neck and gave the end to the man who was now on his horse. As quickly as he arrived in the town, he left with Roland in tow behind him. Looking back at the village, Roland was now lost in reflecting the day's events. A tug on the rope around his neck made him stop that however, and remind him of the current dilemma. Now Roland's fate was at the hands of this mysterious rider.

Continued in Prologue Part 2.


	2. Prologue to a Wolf, Part 2

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the Mount and Blade: Warband.

-Prologue to a Wolf-

Part Two

* * *

Roland was being led by the stranger along the road quietly. The man never said a word, never looked back or regarded his prisoner. Roland considered his options. He had gotten out of one mess thanks to this man, but now it seems that this man intended to do worse harm then the village. Roland then decided that he may have to kill the man, or incapacitate him somehow. He swallowed hard; killing someone was something he had never done, and it was a difficult though to consider. But he didn't trust the man, nor knew his intentions toward him.

Then the man looked around, turned and led Roland into a grove of trees, away from the road. Getting off his horse, the man took out a dagger from his belt and approached Roland. Feeling threatened Roland began to struggle against the roped tied around his wrists. The man held up his hand to calm Roland down. "Relax," he said, "I'm going to cut the rope, ok? Nothing more, nothing less." Roland continued to struggle, not believing that he was just going to "cut the rope."

Sighing deeply the man said, "You said you where from…Duluth, was it?" Roland stopped and stared at the man, that one familiar word had seemed like a light in a dark place. "Fargo," he corrected the man. "Ah," the man said remembering, "I always get those two mixed up." The he looked at Roland, "I'm from Seattle." Looking at the man Roland never would have believed it, but seeing as he knew two cities, he decided to trust the man. Allowing him to cut the ropes on his wrists, the man explained, "Sorry about this," the man said cutting the rope. "I didn't want the villagers to think I was helping a 'witch.'" I have to admit that I was pretty clever back there, huh?" Roland smiled agreeing with the man. "What's your name?"

"Roland, yours?"

"Francis Reedman."

Finally getting the ropes off his wrist Roland then rubbed the burn from his wrists, "Where the hell am I?"

"A place called Calradia, it's pretty much like medieval Europe here."

"I can see that. So you know how we got here?"

Francis returned to his horse, "You guess is as good as mine kid. All I know is that I was out for a morning jog, next thing you know I am running through a village with people chasing me and calling me a witch. Right now the rest of us are looking into a lead right now." He said tossing Roland a skin of water.

"What do you mean the rest of us?" Roland asked taking a drink of the skin.

"You think you and I are the only ones here? There are two more back in Suno." Then he took out an old black cloak, "Put this on," he said throwing it to Roland.

"Why? I already have a jacket."

"Yes, but wearing that is just the same as painting yourself green, wearing a pointed hat and riding a broom everywhere. That is not the apparel of this place; it's just bound to spell trouble, especially in a major city. Put it on."

Seeing his logic, Roland put the cloak on. The cloak was long enough to cover him and hide all of his clothing making him appear to be of this place. "I look like a cultist."

Francis chuckled, "Yeah, it's still better than being burned as a witch. Trust me you get used to it." Francis's tone seemed to show that he had gotten used to it too.

"How long have you been here?"

"Me?" Francis shrugged, "About two years."

"Two years? That's a long time." said Roland.

"Yeah," Francis answered comically, "It's a lot of football games." Laughing to himself he turned and lectured Roland. "Ok, lets get back on the road. No talking to any other travelers on the road, only talk to me, and keep your voice down. When we get into Suno, I don't want any words from you. Stay close, and let me do the talking. Got it?"

Roland nodded. "Good," Francis said getting back on his horse, "Keep your hood up and your clothes hidden. Let's go," he said nodding toward the road. "So how were the Sea-hawks doing before you left?"

* * *

As the two of them traveled along the road a light mist covered the land. Roland was grateful for the cloak; it kept him warm and dry. As they walked along they passed a few farmers and a group a mercenaries, but the two did not converse with them. About midday, Roland caught sight of Suno. The city was encased around a high wall.

"Welcome to Suno, kid. Remember what I told you. Now let's go see Henderson," he said spurring his horse forward.

Passing through the gates, Roland stuck to Francis like glue. One time being accused of a witch was enough for him, the last thing he wanted was to get separated and do a repeat performance at the small village. Francis led him to the castle inside the wall. He was wondering why he was being led here.

A guard in front of the door stopped them, and asked the reason the two were here, "We are here to see Henderson."

"Count Henderson is here," the guard said as a matter of fact, "is he expecting you?"

Francis smiled, "Look, you're new here right?"

"This is my first time being a sentry, yes."

"I can tell, because if you knew who I was you'd sure as hell wouldn't be wasting my time my time right now. You tell them it's Reedman, and I'm sure they'll tell you to let us in."

The guard slowly lowered his guard. "Wait here," he said, peering in he asked something but the door blocked Roland from hearing it. He pulled his head out of the doorway and let the two of them through.

Inside the castle the walls where draped in the lord's banner, a flag cut in haft with two colors, white and violet with a castle between the two colors and a sun behind the assumed it was the Count's banner, since he vaguely recalled the guard at the doorway having a similar pattern.

Walking deeper into the castle they were met by a man wearing a surcoat with the exact banner as before. He was tall with a handsome face, a defined jaw, short bleach-blonde hair, and sky blue eyes. He looked unhappily at Francis, "I would appreciate it if you stopped terrorizing my sentries every time you pay a visit Francis."

"Ah it was his fault for not knowing about me," Francis replied defending himself. "Well I'm sure in a week he won't forget you after you walk back to the castle nearly passed out by ale." Francis first made an angry expression at the man, and then he gave a chuckle, which then grew to a hardy laugh that the other man soon joined.

"Good to have you back Francis," he said place a hand on Francis's shoulder. He then saw Roland for the first time. "Who's the boy?"

"A college boy from Fargo."

"One of us?" Francis nodded. Then the man shifted all attention towards Roland. He extended his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Richard Henderson, and you?"

"Roland."

"Nice to meet you," Henderson said smiling. "So what do you think of all this?"

"It's confusing as hell."

Richard gave an understanding smile, "Yeah, we were like that when we first got here, but lucky for you we're here to talk you through it." Then he looked at Francis, "So where'd you find him?"

"It seems like he came from the forest around Ibiran. I found him the in the village, poor guy almost bought the farm. The villagers thought he was a witch."

"Do you show them a cell phone?" Roland nodded, "You're lucky Francis was there, showing your phone is usually a death wish." Then he changed the subject. "Do you remember how you got here?"

Roland shook his head, "No, all I remember is that I was walk in our schools arboretum, then next thing I know I'm in a village and being called a witch."

Rick nodded, "It seems to be a common thread. All four of us entered a wooded area and then we wind up here."

"Is there only four of us?"

Rick looked at Francis, "That we know of. We also do know that the number of 'Witch burnings' have increased dramatically over the last couple of years. So we assume that the people being burned are also people from earth. But sadly we can do very little to stop this. People appear to be spawning from across Calradia. All in all it's about being in the right place at the right time." Rick sighed depressed, "It's a losing battle," then he pointed at Roland, "but occasionally we save someone. And you just happened be in the right place."

"Is there any way we can go back to our world?"

"That's what Nox and I are trying to find out."

"Nox?"

"Oh right, you haven't met him yet." Rick then motioned them to follow him. "Bit of an odd character. He was a professor at Oxford before winding up here." The three stopped suddenly after hearing a loud bang, which was followed by a "Bloody hell!"

The three began to walk briskly towards a large room to find another man standing over what appeared to be a large wooden box. "Damn this bloody thing," said the man kicking at the box, with a thick British accent. Seeing he was not along anymore he addressed the three. "Bugger nearly cave-ined on me!" Then he gave a disappointed sigh, "bloody thing is more trouble than it's worth." The man looked at Roland, "Who's he?"

"This is Roland" began Richard, "He's from home."

Then the British man just turned around and began to work on the box again. Richard looked at Roland, "This is Carroll Nox. Forgive him he's… distracted with his effort to 'add culture' here in Calrada. He's been working on that piano for weeks now." Roland looked at the box and saw the resemblance of a piano.

"You know," complained Nox, "For being the Lord of this city, one would think you could get me better supplies."

"Just shut up and deal with it, Nox."

Roland then realized, "You're a Lord?"

Richard smiled, "Lord, Count, yeah pretty much."

"Ah, he's being modest!" Boasted Francis, "He's practically the King's right hand man! Hell, all the other Counts hate him for being given Suno!"

"Really?"

Richard shrugged, "More or less. I helped the king out with several problems and the next thing you know I'm given Suno and a couple of villages." The he smiled, "it's tough to keep order, but we manage."

"Have you told him 'bout the prophecy?" interrupted Nox.

"Prophecy?" Questioned Roland, "What's that?"

"We're not exactly sure." Richard began to explain, "We have just recently heard of an ancient prophecy, it's not much but it's the only lead we have. Francis here was going to investigate."

"Why are you here then, Francis?" asked Nox annoyed.

"I was when I ran into Roland here! I figured it would be better if I got him somewhere safe rather than traveling with me."

Richard nodded, "Yeah, agreed. At least here we can tell him about Calradia and what to expect." Turning over to Nox, he saw him glaring at Rich. "But maybe now that he's here you should get back on that mission."

Francis saw Nox's glare, "Right. Onward to Ichamur then." The he padded Roland on the back, "Stay out of trouble kid!" and with that he left the room. Nox shook his head and returned to his work on the piano.

Richard then broke the silence, "Well, now that introductions are over. Let me show you what you've gotten yourself into." He then walked with Roland out of the room to leave Nox to his work. Roland sighed deeply, a couple of hours ago he was in a college forest but now he was in a world that he knew very little about. He doesn't know what would become of him. But deep down inside, it excited him.

* * *

Continued in Prologue Part 3.


	3. Prologue to a Wolf, Part 3

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the Mount and Blade: Warband.

-Prologue to a Wolf-

Part Three

* * *

Roland lied on his bed with his arms behind his head—he was bored. It's been about three months since he stumbled into Calradia, and there was no word on Francis. Over the past three months staying with Henderson in Suno, he had learned more then the four years of college.

Nox, despite his rough nature, has proven to be a very capable teacher. In the three months there he learned the formalities of the land, the geography of it, most of the history, and any other important info that Nox and Henderson had. In the other spare time, Henderson had enrolled him with the squires and pages of his court.

Within the first couple of weeks of doing so he had been known as a "clumsy fool," never winning any fights or delivering messages in the correct format. But after the second week he started to improve dramatically. By the end of the third month, not one squire could lay their sword on him, he could ride a horse with ease, and he read messages so that even the most trivial reports sounded intriguing.

But now he had learned all he need to about Calradia, and now needed something to do. Being a page had worked out fine, until he was bored of reading the reports normally and he started reading them of in funny voices. Henderson loved it but he was forced to remove Roland after a relative of a merchant complained enough and threaten to do business elsewhere. And the squires would no longer fight with Roland, and none of the knights wanted to take him on as a squire. So now he had nothing to do.

On the other hand both Nox and Henderson had enough to keep themselves from being bored. Nox has many self-motivated projects other then his piano. Before Roland arrived in Suno, Nox has made the closest thing Roland knew to be a modern toilet. And Henderson has a city as well as a few villages to keep. He has to listen to complaints from villagers, manage guards with patrols. Both of them had enough on their plates to keep themselves busy. Roland however had nothing.

Leaning up on his bed he began to moan quietly, "bored, bored, bored…" Getting off the bed he began to pace aimlessly, trying to think of a way to relieve his boredom. Sighing deeply after not coming up with a solution, he reflected on the things that he did in his time there as to what kept him busy.

Then he remembered as a squire Henderson had sent him as apart of a merchant convoy. It was a fun and exciting job—a group of bandits had attacked the convoy, leaving Roland and a few squires to defend themselves. According to the caravan master Roland was the only squire who "did not soil himself" when the bandit's attacked. While it should have been a compliment, the other squires used it another excuse to blacklist him.

But now the thought of mercenary work crossed his mind. Then Nox sent a servant to ask Roland to assist him in rebuilding the piano. While helping Roland then put it out there that he thought of becoming a mercenary. Nox just looked at him and laughed. Roland then told him that he was not considering it any further, but in is mind the thought took root until one week later…when he was in is room again trying to pass the time.

He had enough. Now he was going to do something. Getting up of his bed then put on a leather vest that Henderson had given him, and prepared to leave Suno. When he had gotten to the gate of the castle, he saw Henderson and a few guards waiting for him. It was really no surprise, Henderson always knew what Roland was plotting. "Going somewhere?" Henderson asked with a smile on his face.

"Does it matter?"

"Look Roland, be patient. Francis will be back soon."

"Henderson…" Roland started, picking his words carefully in front of the guards, "It's not about waiting for Francis. I want to see Calradia. I mean how often do we get a chance to see a place in time like this?" Looking to see if he had raised suspicion Roland saw the guard look ignorantly on. "So I want to see it while I can."

Henderson nodded, "Yeah, it is an interesting place. Look I am not going to stop you, but aren't you afraid of the dangers?"

"Are they really so bad as our words?" Roland countered, "Can we be shot from a mile away? Or get it by a car? There are less threatening dangers here in back on Earth! So I take them on any day."

"So you've made up you mind?" Roland nodded in agreement.

"Before you go," Henderson then waved for a stable boy to bring a horse saddled and full of supplies. "This is to be sure you don't get yourself killed." Roland examined the horse and it's saddlebags. He found a rusty chain mail suit, a short sword and a small crossbow with some bolts, food for a couple days travel, and a parchment with a map of Calradia scripted on it.

"You don't have to do this," Roland protested but Henderson just shrugged, "No, but I want to."

Getting on the horse, he kicked the horse to a walk, and stopped just before the gate for the castle. Turning around on his horse, he looked back at Henderson, "See ya around!"

"Don't be a stranger, Roland come back soon!" Roland then turned and began to ride into town.

Back inside the castle, Henderson watched as Roland's figure disappeared into the streets. "He's gone eh?" said Nox coming out of the castle.

"Yeah," replied Henderson.

"I give him a week," said Nox coolly, "Then he'll be running back to us."

"I don't know Nox," replied Henderson, "He may surprise us." Nox just shook his head and went into the castle. Henderson took a quick glance out into the city. Then returned to his duties as a Count of Swadia.

As Roland passed the cities gates he felt the excitement begin to boil in his veins. He was on his own, and in a new world that he wanted to learn about. He was free to do as he pleased unlike in the city. Then began Roland's journey of a lifetime.

* * *

End of the Prologue.


	4. The Wolves of Calradia

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Wolves of Calradia.

Almost three years after Roland left Suno.

* * *

The forest between Suno and Uxkhal, was quiet, and uneventful. Not even the sound of a bird was heard in the morning sun. In beside a cave in a deep a secluded area of the forest, a group of bandits laid in the morning sun. They had set up a base camp there, a little dry spot surrounded by swamps and thick forests. It was hard to ride through it, not many people knew of its location, and it was difficult to have a number of soldiers arrive there at a time. It was the perfect hidden form any army, and not many would try to assault it; save a few groups of mercenaries.

Near the edge of the clearing, a group of figures darted from tree to tree moving closer to the clearing. They wore black surcoats with a white wolf embroidered on the front and selves, over suits of chain mail and lightly plated armor. The leader of the group was a young man, Roland.

On his face showed scars and marks that came from nearly three years of wandering and fighting. As he darted from tree to tree with a select group of men behind him, he made sure that he and his men were as quiet. To his right and left is were groups of soldiers armed with bows and crossbows. As they took their positions on the flanks of Roland, Roland readied his men for the assault.

Roland looked over the soon to be ambush site. The camp itself was placed outside of old cave that went deep into the cave. On the direct sides from the cave were steep hills, surrounding the cave and the area outside the cave in a valley.

Seeing that he could use those he signaled to the group of soldiers to the left. He got the attention of the leader of the leader of those soldiers, Deshavi. He signaled to her to take a higher position and wait for his signal to attack. She nodded, and motioned the men to move up to the hill. Roland, them signaled the same signals to the leader of the right group of men, Klethi. She nodded and motioned her men up the hill on the right of Roland's flank. Seeing them take off, Roland then focused on the camp again.

The bandits had not notice their deployment. Instead they had continued to carry on with whatever they were doing before. After making sure that both sides where in position, Roland signaled for the attack to begin. The archers on both sides readied their bows and selected their targets. When all the archers had a target, they released their arrows. A small swarm of arrows came flowing down on the ignorant bandits.

A split second after the arrows hit their mark, the rest of the bandits began to run around in fear, looking for the source of the recent barrage of arrows. Seeing that they were under attack the men began to call out their compatriots from inside the cave. As more men came out of the cave, Roland let the archers release one more volley. After letting there numbers decrease, Roland signaled his men and lead them as they charged into the bandit camp.

Rushing ahead, Roland then targeted the closest bandit that happened to be close to the tree line, one that the archers had missed. His sword drawn, Roland quickly swiped at the bandit before he could block the attack, cutting across his chest, killing the forest bandit instantly. After seeing the bandit's body fall, Roland then looked onward, a bunch of bandits were now running towards them. Roland then thrust his sword into the ground pulled out a crossbow and took aim at the closest bandit. Carefully matching up the sight, he pulled the latch releasing the bolt. As split second later after releasing the bolt, the targeted bandit lurched back in pain. As if someone had punched him through the air. The bolt had pierced the bandit's chest, and the bandit began to stumble and then he fell on his chest dead.

After quickly reloading the crossbow, he holstered the crossbow, grabbed his heater shield from his back, took his sword from in front of him and rushed ahead. Roland was now running with the rest of the men, forming one mass of men rushing towards another that was being thinned out by arrows from Roland's other men. Rushing against the first bandit in his sights, Roland raised his shield against an incoming attack. Blocking the attack, he quickly countered bring his blade directly down of the bandit's head.

As soon of the two masses of men meet, the men on the ridges came rushing down swords drawn hitting the flanks of the bandits. The bandits begun to panic, being hit from all sides was enough to cause panic. Soon the bandits were wedged into a tight cluster where Roland and his troops tightened there hold on the bandits.

It was an unfair fight. Roland's men were better armored—most of them had chain mail and plate armor— they were better armed, more trained and experienced in fighting. The only advantage that the bandits had was that they outnumbered Roland's men at first but now, after the barrage of arrows the two forces were now about even. The remaining battle took less then five minutes to force the remaining bandits to be dispatched or to surrender.

When the heat of battle settled in Roland's mind, his first question was, "any casualties?" Looking around he saw that the same number of uniforms that started the attack, and none of them looked in pain. Then he had the surrendered bandits brought together. They had been searched and all weapons had been removed.

Roland looked at the bandits, most of them were afraid. They probably were still in shock, after being attacked from an unknown force. No doubt they felt safe inside their little cave hideout. Funny how it turned out.

Roland then addressed his troops, "Good job Wolves! We have them now!" All of the troops gave a cheer. "Search inside the cave, see what they have taken. If they have any prisoners bring them out." Roland then selected two wolves, "Get on those ridges and keep and eye out for any more bandits." Roland watched them as the two quickly scaled the ledge, and began to keep watch.

"Oi, captain!" came a voice from behind him. It was Klethi, a short haired red headed young woman. She had her short sword drawn, and was keep watch over the captured bandits. "What do you want do with these blokes?" Then she gave an excited smile, "can we kill them?"

Roland was not fazed by her eagerness. Klethi had been a former assassin before joining the wolves, so death held very little meaning to her—other then a payment was on the way. "Not just yet, lets decide as soon as the prisoners come out, if there is any."

"What do you plan to do to us?" Asked one of the bandits fearful for his life.

Roland bent over the bandit and smiled, "Well now I guess that depends on your behavior. Isn't there a saying? A 'finger for finger'? Or something like that. Anyway, how we find the prisoners is the way we treat our prisoners. Deshavi, what happens to them when the prisoners are found in good shape."

"They are allowed to live," replied the dark skinned women coldly. "And what happens if the prisoners are found raped and/or murdered." "Then we return the favor." "That's right," smiled Roland. The he eyed up the bandit that asked, "We won't rape you but murder you all if any of those two things happened." After saying that, several wolves came out leading about ten people from the cave. "Ten peasants sir. Three farmers and seven women." "Any harm done to them?" The wolf shook his head, "No sir, they are in good shape."

Klethi gave a disappointed sigh, "You guys got lucky." Then she sheathed her sword.

Roland then walked to the prisoners, "Are you all ok?"

"Yes sire," said one removing his hat, "we are in your debt, sire."

"Don't sire me," said Roland, "I'm no noble, so don't sire me ok?" The framer seemed embarrassed. Roland then tried to cheer him up, "where are you from?"

The question caught the farmer of guard. "Me and my wife sire… we are from Burglen." Roland smiled, "ahh Burglen. They had wonderful cabbages, last time I was there." The farmer's face brighten, clearly mentioning the village had made Roland seem more welcoming. "Well, you are free to leave at any time, good man. We can escort you to Uxkhal if you'd like, that is our destination." The farmer smiled, "Thank you sir, God bless you sir!"

Roland then turned to Deshavi, "Gather everything that these brigades took, if they belonged to the framers return it. If not, bring it back with us." She nodded and had two other wolves follow her. As soon as all of their loot was accounted for, the Wolves escorted the former bandits and their former prisoners out of the bandits former hideout.

* * *

Less then a mile a way, the Wolves found their horses. They mounted them and continued to the edge of the forest. As soon the group cleared the forest, the wolves rode to another camp of men. When they entered into the camp, the farmers and the bandits saw the same color surcoats as the as there liberators, and the captors for the bandits. Which made them think it was the rest of the troop of the Wolves.

Roland role into camp first, and a young man with long brown hair walked out to greet. "Welcome back captain!" said the young man, "hunting go well?"

"It was fine," replied Roland. "Caught a few bandits, and freed some farmers."

"Sounds like a good hunt," replied the man. "Any wounded?" Roland shook his head, "Nope, we caught the bandits by surprise, so they gave us little trouble, how were things here Alayen?" "Quiet sir." "Very well, get these prisoners to Katrin, see if see cannot get them anything to eat and drink. We will camp here for tonight." Alayen nodded and led the prisoners into the center of the camp.

As Roland walked toward his tent, he saw a sparring match and decided to watch it. Standing with a crowd of people he saw that it was Ymira. She was giving pointers to a new recruit, a sword sister that joined a week ago. As they exchanged blows, Roland noticed that the recruit was improving, less then a week ago she had barely been able to hold her own in a spar, now she could fight.

Roland had made it a policy for his mercenaries to have daily sparring and training, even archery training. That way, the wolves were ready for a fight and could use almost any weapon. Drawing his attention away from the spar, he noticed the onlookers. One of them was another blonde, Matheld. She was a strong Nordic woman, and one of the leaders of the sword sisters. She was watching with little interest. It was a well-known fact that the two blondes, Ymira and Matheld did not get along in the least. Perhaps she was watching the spar hoping Ymira would get hurt, Roland thought.

Looking around he also saw Bunduk, a seasoned former soldier. He was watching as well. He often watched and gave tips and bits of wisdom to the fighters. "Excuse me captain, sir!" Came a serious voice from behind him. Roland looked, it was Artimenner, the company's "Steward" and siege equipment expert. Although the wolves never really required siege equipment, Artimenner was one of the most learned men that Roland had met in his travels, and it was a relief to talk about things he had learned in school with someone who would understand them. "There is a noble here sir. He wishes to discuss possible employment."

Roland gave annoyed sigh, this sort of thing was becoming a common occurrence. Nobles now were aware of the Wolves and wanted them as their own personal army. Roland had turned them down, but it just increased their desire for them. The kings of Calradia had even offered Roland fiefs in return for his service. Though tempted he also turned them down, he didn't want to be tied down to a piece of land. "Tell him I will meet him shortly, and send him to my tent."

"Already have sir," replied Artimenner.

"Good, I'll get the three here, get the rest of the eleven." The "eleven" referred to the people who had authority other then Roland. In short they where like his lieutenants. Then he cut though the crowd and interrupted the fight, "Ymira, Bunduk, Matheld, we have a noble to please." The three stopped what they were doing and followed Roland to his tent.

Entering the tent, Roland saw the noble standing in the tent with his steward behind him. He was a young noble with short red hair and a narrow face. The noble looked full of himself, no doubt the son of a rich noble. "I'm Roland of the Wolves," he said extending his hand. The noble look not amused and unfriendly, "Boyar Harish, of the Kingdom of Vaegirs."

"You've come a long ways just to see me." "Quite," Harish said coldly, "I am here to offer you 3000 daners to have you and your men swear loyalty to me."

Roland was unimpressed, 3000 daners was a week upkeep for the Wolves. "What makes you think that 3000 is enough to afford us?"

The noble scoffed, "because it is your duty. A peasant is bound to help a noble should he be asked." At this point, Roland had enough, he had heard some bigot claims, but this was the most skewed opinion he had heard in a while. "Why don't you ask me to lick your boots as well."

"I'm not sure I like your tone," replied the noble.

"And I don't like yours!" Replied Roland, "You think that anyone not noble is less then a person, no more then dirt. I hate nobles that think like that, and I will never follow one!" And with that he stormed out of the tent.

Boyar Harish followed Roland at his heels, "Now, see here…" As he came out of the tent he found himself surrounded by eleven other than Roland. Looking at the figures, his face became surprised as he saw the women wearing the wolves surcoat. "What is this? You allow women in your ranks!"

"The Wolves allow anyone who want to take a blade and fight," said Matheld holding a Nordic ax to her shoulder, stepping threateningly toward the noble. "I'm sure we could take on any man your threw at us."

The noble had had enough, Roland's attitude was insufferable to him but him allowing women into his ranks, it was taboo. The noble then ordered his steward to get his horse. "I've had enough. Clearly you are not interested in service." And as soon as the steward returned with his horse, the noble got on and rode off.

When the noble had left the sight of the camp, one of the eleven stepped forward, "What an ass." The source was the out spoken Klethi. "Yeah he was," Replied Roland. Slowly the rest of the eleven dispersed into the camp, save one. Jeremus, he was the troop's surgeon and one of the very first Wolves.

"The Veagirs must be desperate, coming all the way down here in person to try to recruit us." "Must be." "The rumor around the campfire is that the Nords have taken Curaw. That leaves them only Reyvadin and Rivacheg for major cities." "They lost Khudan?" Jeremus gave a "really" look and added, "Like I said, the only major cities…" Roland then got the joke.

"Yeah, aha…it's best if we don't get involved." Said Roland.

"Seems like that's getting harder with every day."

"Isn't that the truth," and with that Roland went back into his tent.

* * *

Inside his tent Roland took out a piece of parchment, an inkwell and quill began to figure the week's budget, it was a common occurrence for him. He began to ledger and tally all the expenses and how much this week. It was always red, he never really had a weekly pay under one thousand daners. Despite that though Roland was rather wealthy. At first he had little money, it was touch and go staying within a budget. Then after about the first year, he had gained knowledge about some of the trade routes. After that he had gained massive amounts of money. Presently he had bought a dozen of iron ingot bars from Curaw, now he was planning to sell them soon, hopefully at a good price.

He stopped writing when he heard the flap of his tent open. Looking up he saw on one the eleven, Haydee. She was from the Sarranid Sultanate, she had short black hair and dark brown skin. But her most noticeable feature was a scar over her right eye. The eye was fine according for Jeremus, but she had been unable to open it after she got it. Roland thought it was physiological. But as to what he could not tell.

"How much did he offer?" She asked curiously.

"3000," Roland said smiling. She scoffed, "That low? Hmph, dumb nobles." The statement bared more weight coming from her—being former nobility. She was the niece to Sultan Hakim, and one of the potential claimants to the throne of the Sultanate.

"I doubt you just came in here to ask that, what's on your mind?"

"It's about some of the prisoners you rescued earlier, some of them want to join the wolves. Most of them are the women you saved." Roland was not surprised, some of the sword sisters were rescued from bandits in some way. "How many?" "From the prisoners, three. All of them are widows thanks to the bandits. In addition, one of the bandits wants to join as well." Roland gave a look of surprised, he had never had a former enemy offer to join the wolves. Putting the pen down he folded his hands, taking an authoritarian position of power, "What do you think of him?"

Haydee took a long pause, "He seems to be a good man, he says he was a farmer that the bandits recruited after being taken prisoner. Some of the prisoners even say he talked the rest down from killing them." Roland nodded, a point if the former bandit's favor, "Personally what did you think of him?"

Sighing deeply, Haydee folded her arms, "I think we can trust him," then she added reaffirming herself, "without a doubt."

Roland smiled, noticing how cute she was when she seemed confidante. "Alright, I'll take your word on that. Send each one of the prisoners to Ymira, Matheld and Alayen. Send the bandit," he grinned widely, "to Deshavi. If he is really sorry about being a bandit, she'll be able to tell." Haydee nodded, all of the Wolves knew of Deshavi's past. She had "seen both sides of a bandit's ax," as the others had put it. She was a bandit's captive before joining the wolves. She was a "slave," to put in a soft word, until one bandit took more than a fancy to her. She says that he truly did love her, and he was the only bandit she ever respected.

"Anything else?" She shook her head, "that's it." As she turned around to leave the tent she remembered what else she wanted to say, "By the way good job out there, Captain." As with that she opened the flap and left the tent.

* * *

Returning to his work, he was able to finish the figure and have a ruff estimated of what he was going to pay. Putting the parchment away and taking out a book he began to read. It was one of the few things he did to remind him of home. Although it was like reading an unabridged Shakespeare play, he found it a way to pass the time, and in the past few years the text had became easier to understand.

As he was deep into the story, outside the tent came voices. Roland could tell that they were shouting at each other. At first, they where at a distance, then they progressively grew louder. Roland put the book away, expecting the source to approach his tent. As expected the voices then became at their peak, just outside of Roland's tent. Once again he had to play parent, a role he now was used to since founding the Wolves.

The flap opened and Klethi and Artimenner were now red in the face and spewing gibberish at each other. "Stop it!" Roland yelled over the two of them. "What is this about? This better not be another saddle incident, like before." About a year ago, these two had another altercation. A group a saddles where mixed up, and Artimenner accused Klethi of stealing his saddle. Klethi countered with the same accusation, the two went on for weeks, until another Wolf admitted to mixing them up. The two, despite this revelation, never apologized officially to each other.

Artimenner started, "This wretch has been rummaging through my belongings!" Roland's eyed shifted to Klethi, this was not an unusual claim. She was a kleptomaniac, with a special interest in shiny jewelry. She had been caught a few times but Roland convinced her to return all of the stolen property. After that items went missing but were found back in their original place the next day. Klethi admitted doing it, but only to "keep her skills sharp" as she explained. Roland allowed her to continue as long as she returned the items.

"Is this true?" Roland asked evenly. Klethi shrugged, "yes, captain. But, he's a witch!" She stated as if it was more important then Artimenner's claim. Roland's eyes shifted between the two, "I'm sorry, what?" "He's a witch! He's always mumbling to himself! And I found strange drawings in his satchel, runes I think!" Roland had a hunch as to what the drawing were, but wanted to confirm it, "Show me these drawings."

Artimenner was reluctant at first, but seeing no other way, he plopped the parchments on the table. Roland's hunch was correct they were siege equipment designs. Sighing deeply, Roland turned to Klethi and tried to explain what they were. At first she didn't believe him, then slowly she recognized the shapes. After Roland's assurance that Artimenner was not a witch, Klethi grew as red as her hair. In her unique way she ended the fight with, "Well, just letting you know I have my eye on you…" she said with false conviction. With that she turned and left the tent quickly.

Roland and Artimenner stood in his tent for a brief pause after she left. Roland then handed the designs back to Artimenner. He seemed angry, but not at Roland. Roland would not hear the end of this for a while. And with that Artimenner stormed out of the tent.

* * *

Returning to his book Roland became lost in the pages, loosing all tract of time, his daze within the book was interrupted by the flap of the tent opening. Snapping his head out of the book to see it was Ymira, the young proper merchant girl. In her hands she held a sandwich and a flagon of liquid. Seeing the sandwich, Roland's stomach growled in joy, and he realized he had not eaten all day. "I thought you might want to eat, captain." Putting the book down, he motioned her to put it on the small table, "Thanks. I forgot to eat at all this morning." He began to feast into the sandwich, one of the few things he was able to adopt from home. At first none of the men, especially Katrin knew what to do with it. However pretty soon everyone loved it. It was an easy way for all the men to have a little of every thing, meat, cheese, cabbage and bread.

"What was the fight about?" Inquired Ymira. Finishing off his bite Roland said, "Oh that? It was one of Klethi and Artimenner's quarrels again. I swear, those two are at each others throats'." He was tempted to add, "like you and Matheld," but decided against it. "Yeah, they do…" she said agreeing.

As Roland took another bite, noticed Ymira was fidgeting, she wanted to say something but was unsure whether to or not. "Something's on your mind, Ymira?" The girl's face began to tense, "Sir, I-I have a problem… and I don't know who I can turn to…" "Ymira," Roland said softy, "you can tell me." Ymira hesitated, then sighing deeply she let of her dilemma. "It's my father sir." Roland then stopped eating the sandwich and listen more attentively, "He has found out I'm a Wolf sir! He's send me a letter demanding I return to Jelkala at once to marry the same man I ran away from."

Ymira's father was the post prominent merchant in the Kingdom of Rhodoks. When she was only seventeen she was set to be married to one of the most powerful merchants in the Sultanate. However the night before the wedding, she had escaped her father's house and ran the whole night until she arrived at Veluca. After that, she was recruited by the Wolves and has not looked back.

"Has he made any type of threats?" "Not yet, it just says that all will be forgiven if I return by the end of the month." "And if you don't?" "He doesn't say, sir." Roland then tried to imagine what he would do in her father's shoes. He doubted that he would let his daughter stay with the Wolves, when he could marry her off to make a very lucrative deal with another merchant. "What have you decided to do, Ymira?"

"Sir, my place is here. I am a wolf. And I gave up following my father's will the night I ran. I am yours, sir." Roland nodded, there was not a shred of doubt in her voice or face. "With loyalty like that, I bet I could take Calradia." "If you wish it," said Ymira. "Easy there," laughed Roland, "I was joking."

"What do you plan to do?" Asked Ymira. Roland then put his hands on her shoulders, "First, you're going to get some sleep. Second, you're not going to reply at all to you father. Let him think you did not get his letter. Make him send another letter if he has to. In the meantime we will far away from him in the next couple of months."

"Far away?" Asked Ymira with a confused look.

"Yes, I heard a lot of rumors that the sea raiders and tulga bandits have become unbearable lately. Especially between Rivacheg and Wercheg. I think it's time for another season of sea raider hunting up there, don't you agree?" Ymira nodded, sea raiders were heavy armored, true, but the wolves were capable of dealing with them, and often the wolves sold the chain mail that they often wore for a good profit.

"Good so don't worry about it. The wolves look out for each other, we won't let him get you, ok?" Ymira nodded, Roland always made her feel better. "Now go get some rest. Spread the word we leave at first light." Saluting him she exited the tent and went to her duties.

Roland then finished off his sandwich and sipped at the flagon. It contained water, because he didn't like ale at all. Finishing off his meal, he decided to turn in early. As he laid down on his sleeping cot, he remembered— it almost was the three-year anniversary of winding up here. He chuckled a little, reflecting on his first thoughts on Calradia, and what he thought now. Brushing that aside, he rolled over in his roll, and fell asleep.

* * *

-End Notes-

A bit longer then the prologue, but I wanted to for the readers to get a feel of the wolves' camp. I hope I accomplished that.

For everyone's information, I pick a select few of companions that Roland probably get a long with or see a need for hiring. That dose not mean that I am not going to exclude them from this story. I may add them not as companions but rather as people they meet, but I don't know as of yet. As you could tell I added another companion, Haydee. I wanted a character that was directly connected to the nobility somewhere, so I just added a new character; I hope I didn't upset anyone.

Also, the Wolves are not really one specific type of unit, they are just a jack-of-all-trades soldier. I would have been very difficult to include their nationalities some how but I didn't see a way of doing it that flowed with the story.

Anyway enjoy,

Cheers

Indogma.


	5. The Village of Yaragar

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Village of Yaragar.

As soon as the first light of the dawn shined upon the eastern horizon, the wolves' camp became alive with activity. If there was one thing that the wolves where exceptionally well at, it was packing up camp in less then an hour. By the time the sun had show its face, the wolves were on the road heading towards Uxkhal, all of their belongings and tents put away on their horses.

They were traveling at half the speed that they traveled from the previous day, due to the new additions of the troops. The new recruits did not have horses, so it made the troop have to travel slower then what they where capable of. But it didn't worry Roland. Even at their slower pace they would reach Uxkhal by the late afternoon. There he planed to buy a few lame or wild horses a low price. For the new recruits.

As they continued, the forest started to thin out until they reached the edge of the forest and saw a narrow bridge that crossed over a river. Recalling the geography he remembered there was a village along the way to Uxkhal. Forgetting the name of the village, he then brushed it aside as not important to visit.

As the troop prepared to cross the bridge, Roland then rode over to Deshavi. "Hey Deshavi, how is our newest wolf?" Roland asked gesturing towards the former bandit, who was now under her command. "His name is Voger, sir. He seems to be fitting in just fine, but he was only been for a day." "How dose he seem to behave? Is he still a bandit at heart?" She shrugged, "I don't know sir. He seems to be a good man in the wrong place. I don't think we will have any trouble from him sir."

As soon as she said that, Klethi rode up to Roland and Deshavi. She had heard their conversation and wanted to add something. "If he does give you any trouble, let me know," and she pulled a knife out from her sleeve, "I'll slit his throat and he won't be a problem any more." Roland and Deshavi exchanged uneasy glances toward each other, "I don't think that will be required," assured Roland. Klethi shrugged not caring, "just offering," she said playing with her knife. After getting her message across she then followed the rest of the troop to the bridge.

"I worry about her," admitted Roland watching her leave them. "Don't worry sir. She can take care of herself," boasted Deshavi. Roland shook his head, "I'm not worried that something will happen to her, Deshavi. Rather that she will do something to the people she is with." Deshavi nodded in agreement, after lightly laughing to herself.

When all of the wolves had crossed the bridge, they turned right to the east and made their way towards Uxkhal.

About half way from the city, the lead wolves yelled for a halt and the troop stopped for no reason. Roland, riding in the middle of the troop, rushed to the front of the troop to find the reason why the troop had come to a standstill. Coming up front he saw a group of peasants in the front of the lead wolves. As he stopped in front of the group one of the wolves filled him in, "Farmers captain. They wanted to talk to you sir."

"Thank you Macrow." The wolf was impressed that the captain remembered his name. In truth, Roland was impressed with himself, it was a blind guess as to what the man's name was. Dismounting from horse he walked up to the farmers and introduced himself. "I am Roland of the Wolves."

One of the farmers stepped forward, "Bless you for stopping sir. We were heading to Uxkhal to seek help from a group of mercenary troop. But when we saw you sir we thought we might try our luck and come you."

"What is the matter?"

"It's our village sir. Yaragar. We have been the victims of a recent famine and drought sir. We have very little money for ourselves, and most of the workers go to the fields hungry." Roland was opening they were coming to the point of the story. "And now sir, mountain bandit's have been residing in our village sir. They are terrorizing our people, stealing our food, treating us like dirt. We are suffering, sir and we need your help sir."

Roland was unsteady, it seemed a bit strange to him. "Seems pretty far for Mountain bandits just to come all the way from the mountains just to terrorize a poor village, don't you agree?"

"True sir, but the Kingdom of Rhodoks have not been at war for a year sir. They have been cracking down on the bandits. I guess the next safest place for a mountain bandit is away from the mountain." Roland saw the logic behind the farmer's reasoning. The Kingdom of Rhodoks had been at peace for little over a year now. King Graveth ordered his lords to hunt down bandits and brigades in order to keep the army busy and to have them gain experience. An unforeseen benefit was the increase in trade. Caravans started to travel the more frequently in the Rhodoks Highlands, now that bandits were being hunted. It made the road safer then anywhere else in Calradia.

Roland sighed, "Let me talk it over with my men, ok?" He then turned and walked over to his men. He walked over to the wolves. He picked out Alayen's profile amidst the men. Alayen then rode out and met Roland in the middle of the two parties. "What did you think, Alayen?" Alayen leaned in close after looking at the farmers.

"I feel that they are telling the truth, sir. They seem desperate and in need of our help sir. If what they say is true sir it is our duty to help them."

"Nothing of this smells like a trap to you?"

"No sir. If it were a trap they would have had to know that we were in the area, and that we were heading to Uxkhal. No one could know that by now, sir."

Roland agreed. Walking over to the farmers he asked them to direct them to the village. As they approached the village, he ordered most of his men to remain far enough way so not to draw suspicion. Only one of the farmers, Deshavi and Klethi were to accompany him to the outskirts of the village and see what they where up against.

As they approached the village, the three wolves dismounted and went on foot. As they walked up a hill surrounding the village, Roland tripped over something. It was dark black and foreign to this world. Picking it up, Roland realized what it was, a light pair of binoculars. Another reminder of the world that he was raised in. Examining them he found them in perfect working order, and a descend pair of binoculars; probably coast a good amount of money to purchase to whomever owned them before. Where did they come from, wondered Roland. Shaking his head, he brushed aside all the thoughts that came from remembering his home. He shoved the pair of binoculars into his belt and continued to follow the farmer to the village.

Cresting a hill on the outskirts of the village, the four crouched down and crawled to the top of the hill. The village of Yaragar was just like the famer described it. Poor and desolate. Even from afar Roland could tell from the dirty buildings. Not really the wanting stop of any traveler and reflected poorly on the count under whose protection the village was.

Unable to see the specifics of the figures in the village, Roland debated using the binoculars to assist him. He would be more inclined to use them if he had not had brought Klethi along. She was paranoid about things foreign to her, often declaring the thing as witchcraft. The previous day with Artimenner's designs for siege equipment proved how paranoid she was at strange objects.

Sighing deeply, he said to hell with it, and pulled them out and began to see the figures more visibly. After looking down in the village for a minute he noticed none of the other farmers in the village. Probably out in the fields, working on what little of a crop they had left.

Then a figure appeared in the village. When it walk in the street the other peasants avoided is path or kept their distance from him. _One of the bandits,_ Roland thought. To make sure he handed the binoculars to the farmer, showed him how to use it, then pointed out the figure. The farmer looked and nodded to Roland, it was one of the bandits.

Taking back the binoculars Roland noticed that the one bandit was the only one in the village. Asking why to the farmer, the farmer explained that the bandits camped a mile from town but came in every day around noon. Roland then looked at the position of the sun to get a present time.

He hated that fact that in the last three years in Calradia he had not been about to guess the time reasonably well. He started to regret not having a watch. From the sun he estimated to time to be about ten to eleven. So if the bandits followed a time frame then they had about 2 hours to prepare for their arrival. Not a lot of time to prepare to have the wolves rush in and defend the village. The next best thing would be to draw them out of the village. But how?

Then an idea came across his mind, "Farmer, has anyone stood up to these bandits?" "Aye sir, one did." "What happened?" "Poor man was beaten in front of the entire village." "Were all of the bandits their?" "Yes sir, they all made sure to take a swing at him."

Roland nodded to himself, a plan was unfolding in his mind. However he hated himself for concluding that he would have to use the farmers as decoys. But it was the only way. "Farmer, how long will it take for you to round up the rest of the farmers?" "Not long, about an hour or two, sir." "Then do it, you see that hill?" Roland said pointing to the hill with the windmill on it. "Meet the rest of the wolves behind there. Ok?" Then he went ahead and told the three of his plan.

Once everything was clear between the three, they fled the vantage point of the hill and returned to the wolves were he shared the rest of his plan. After going through every detail, the groups separated and went to their spots according to Roland's plan.

Meanwhile in the village, the farmer's guess as to the time that the bandits would return was correct. They rode into the village about noon, and the village once again submitted to their will. Whatever they wanted, they would receive, or they would display their wrath upon the one who could not satisfy their want. The villagers could do nothing, even if their men could stay in the village they would not be strong enough or experienced with any weapons. The safest place for the farmers, believe it or not, was away from the village.

As the bandits made themselves comfortable in the village, they steadily let their guard down. At the being of the bandit's reign this day there were twelve bandits on guard, within an hour there was no one keeping guard. Because of this, most of the bandits did not see the mass of farmers gathering up the hill that held the windmill. After an hour it took the village snitch to tell the bandits in order to finally get their attention.

The bandits then massed together on the outskirts of Yaragar. They looked up at the farmers and began to taunt them to go back to their fields. The farmers' response was a strong "get the hell out of our village." Now while most of the bandits thought little of it, the "leader" (in short the only one who had a little knowledge of tactics) felt it as a direct threat to his authority. He then ordered the bandits to kill the farmers as an example to those who stood up to him.

Over haft the bandit's sluggishly walked up the hill to deal with the farmers. They would have preferred to stay in the village and live like kings, or at least the closest thing to it. Now they had to deal with this, needless to say it was annoying. As they got closer to the farmers, the farmers then began to run away from the bandits and run behind the mill. Annoyed further, the bandits disregarded all caution and began to run after the farmer to wrap this up quickly.

"They seem to have taken the bait." Said Matheld after peeking through the binoculars. "There are a few remaining in the village, but I think we can take them," she added handing the binoculars back to Roland. "I hope so, if not we will be in trouble," joked Roland observing the remaining bandits in the village.

A small group of wolves were hiding on the top of the hill that over looked the village. Roland selected the wolves that could use axes and short ranged weapons, so they could pick off most of the bandits inside the tight spaces of the village buildings. Because of their abilities Klethi and Matheld were the obvious choices to accompany them.

As he took the binoculars from Matheld, he was surprised at how unimpressed she was with them and how quickly she had learned how to use it. Klethi, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the binoculars. Roland explained them plainly as magical device that allowed the user to see far distances. That was an explanation that Klethi could accept, or at least it helped her understand the use of the item.

Looking for himself, he saw only about nine bandits that remained in the village. Although outnumbered, six to nine, if they surprised them, the odds where even. Looking up to the mill, he saw the bandits beginning to crest the hill. That was their cue. Giving a small nod, the five other wolves stood up and began to sneak down to the village.

They reached the first building without drawing any attention to themselves. Peeking over the corner, Roland saw the nine bandits watching the hill, expecting to see their fellow bandits returning over the hill with the farmers. From the far side of the hill both the wolves and the bandits heard sounds of battle. Bandits began to sneer at each other. The farmers must have grown a backbone. But the other bandits would take care of them.

After five minutes the sounds of the battle faded away. The bandits looked at each other and smiled, they believed their friends had won. Looking up at the hill they began to see figures dot the peak of the hill. Smiling wildly, they assumed that they were fellow bandits. Then their smiles disappeared, as they realized that the figures where not their fellow bandits. Roland saw their chance; they needed to strike now when they had the element of surprise.

Signaling the wolves to attack the six swung out, and the five wolves readied their weapons and when they came from behind the house, they all at once swung their throwing weapons to their targets. Of the five releases, Klethi's, Matheld's and one other wolf's weapon hit their target, while the other two missed theirs. Each of the three hit three unexpecting bandits and was able to dispatch them in one shot.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of the wolves, four of the six remaining bandits then took off towards the center of the village while the other two, including the "leader" bandit, turned to take on the six enemies that threatened their grip on this village. As they began to rush towards the wolves, Klethi and Matheld readied their weapons again. Releasing at the same time the two did not realize that they picked the same target, the bandit other then the "leader," Klethi's knife and Matheld's throwing ax striking the bandit at the exact same time, killing the bandit instantly. That left the "leader" to be dealt with.

Roland, (sword already drawn), ran ahead and blocked the incoming attack from the bandit's falchion. When the attacked deflected, Roland quickly swung his sword at the bandit's chest. The sword cut a large gash across the bandit's chest and he dropped to the ground in immense pain. Knowing he only had minutes to live, Roland walked over him and met up with the rest of the wolves that were gathering on the far side of the village.

Roland had given command of the man force to Alayen, and he did not disappoint. As soon as the bandits had crested the hill, they met the swords of the wolves, and most either surrendered or were cut to ribbons. Nodding in content, Roland then ordered Deshavi to tract the remaining four bandits to their hideout. Once found, the wolves would rush in a secure all the things that were stolen. Giving a quick nod, Deshavi and the rest of the wolves took off after the four, leaving Roland and five other wolves to guard the village.

As the six wolves wait for the others to return, Roland sent Matheld and one other wolf to recover the horses. Despite liberating the village, the villagers were cautious of the new armed residents. Keeping their distance from the wolves, they remained inside the houses, and occasionally snuck a peak at the wolves.

While waiting, Klethi began to sharpen her knives with a grind block. As she grinded her knives to a fine point, she began to sing a song to herself cheerfully.

(Sung to the melody of _Oats, Peas, Beans and Barley Grow_)

_First you grip the knife real tight,_

_One stab is all to make things right,_

_Just grip the hilt and stab at him,_

_Now the man is at his end._

All of the wolves looked uneasy at Klethi, who was too focused on the knife to care. Roland knew better then to ask whether she made up the song, or if see was singing from experience. Leaving it alone, Roland began to pace around the village. Klethi continued to sing her song:

_Once a farmer hated a lord, _

_So I asked him to the ford,_

_He showed up alive, but le-e-ft dead_

_Thanks to a rock that bashed in his head_

_There was once a big brigade,_

_He had no reason to be afraid,_

_He turned his back to me and then,_

_He wound up with a cut into his spleen._

As he strolled through the village, an old man walked up to Roland. He introduced himself as the village elder, and asked Roland his intentions toward his village. Roland introduced himself and what he group was. Explaining the situation, the village elder sighed relieved. He had heard of the wolves, and knew of their reputation. The elder offered to show Roland the village. Roland, accepted the offer, presently he felt the farther away from Klethi, the safer he'd be till the rest of the wolves returned.

As they walked around the village, Roland noticed a burnt log stuck in the ground. Roland turned pale, and asked, "What is that?" He already knew what it was but he needed to ask.

"Oh that? It was a stake we used to burn a witch, good sir." "When?" Asked Roland, touching the stake on the least burnt part. "A few days ago, sir." Roland then knelled down a saw a bit of a bone that the fire did not claim. "The man claimed to a "birdwatcher."" Continued the elder, "Never heard of anyone watching birds for a livin'" Roland then played with the binoculars in his hand —they must have been his, he concluded. "If I arrived a little sooner," Roland said under his breath. "I'm sorry?" Roland corrected, "Better safe then sorry." He felt himself die a little inside, after saying that. But he had to. Walked away from stake, he returned to the other wolves. Klethi still singing her song,

_There was once a battered wife,_

_She then asked to end his life, _

_She unlocked the door and let me in, _

_Now she can get married again. _

After two hours the rest of the wolves, including Matheld, returned to the village. They brought back the four other bandits plus two other bandits who had trouble standing. According to Alayen, the two were to remain at the camp and keep guard. Unfortunately the two discovered several kegs of ale and decided to drink it to pass the time. By the time the four bandits ran back to the camp, they discovered the two bandits drunk. As soon as the bandits returned the wolves pounced on the camp and took it without any difficulty.

After securing the camp, the wolves discovered a large cache of food and drink. Clearly they realized that the village would not supply enough food for them, so they had to get their own. Even with all that cache of food the bandits decided to exhaust the food they could get from the village as long as they could. The wolves then decided to gather the food and pack it on the horses and walked it to the village.

The elder was very pleased to see baskets of food and drink on the back of the wolves' horses. Roland searched through the food and picked out most of the dried meat and food the wolves needed, then he gave the rest to the village. The village elder began to thank the wolves endlessly. Then he proposed that the village should have a feast to honor the wolves and the village's freedom.

Declining at first, Roland then gave in to the village from the insistence from the elder and his men. The elder then gathered the villagers and the farmers and began to prepare for the feast. Roland then gathered his men; he set up patrols, and sent out scouts to patrol around the village to be sure there were no other surprises around the village. The scouts would return at dusk, when the feast would start. The captured bandits were tied up and gathered to the edge of town, far away from the area where the feast would be.

Roland and Katrin did a quick inventory of the food they liberated from the bandits. Lucky there was just enough ale and wine left over for the wolves so that each member could get some. But there was not enough to get a man drunk, fortunately. Plus the villagers would be at the feast as well and they would have some, which would diminish the amount the alcohol given to each person; so the odds of any of the wolves making fools of themselves due to alcohol where slim to none. Still Roland would keep an eye out, and "lay the law" if he needed to.

When dusk arrived, the village became a hive of activity. A large bonfire in the center of the village laminated the large table that held the feast. The table contained several large chickens, freshly cooked pork, some smoked fish and cooked beef. At the head of the table, the village elder took the position of power. To begin the feast he stood up and directed the table's attention toward Roland and his fellow wolves. Giving them their gratitude, the wolves nodded and smiled in recognition Most of the wolves were there; unfortunately some had to guard the captured bandits. In order to fair, the wolves drew straws and six had to give up their feast.

As the feast went on into the night, the meat had been consumed and the second course of bread lightly coated with butter and honey, with vegetables and fruit for sides and the ale then was brought out.

After the second course, most of the food was gone, but the party was still strong. Some of the wolves had begun to play dice, some started an arm wrestling tournament with the local farmers, and most wanted to play cards. Roland created a monster introducing cards the wolves.

Roland had asked Nox to make him a deck or two of playing cards. Nox did, and Henderson had commissioned an artist to design the cards. Although they where not as neat or as uniform as a regular deck, the two decks Roland received were as good as any deck. At first the wolves where not trusting of the cards, but Roland slowly taught them card games like Texas hold 'em (he called it Calradia poker, fore Texas was foreign to them), kings corner, and believe it or not but Go Fish was one of the most popular games he had taught them.

Handing them the decks of cards, one group of wolves started a game of Calradia poker. Of all the wolves the two best players, other then Roland, were Jeremus and Matheld, both where impossible to tell when they were bluffing. Klethi on the other hand was the worst player, which was odd for an assassin. And the other deck was used to start a game of their choosing.

Roland then strolled over to the guards of the prisoners. "How is everything?" He asked one of the men keeping guard. "All right captain," replied the guard cheerfully, "although I wish we could be there with the rest of them sir." Roland smiled understandingly. "Well it's not much but," Roland then pulled out some meat and other items served at the feast on a large wooden plate. The six men looked him surprised. All six took some of the food until none was left on the plate. Then Roland relieved six mugs of ale for them to finish of their meal.

"What about us sir?" asked one of the captured bandits. Roland then looked down at the bandit. "Well now, since you so content to let the villagers starve, I think it's only fair that you go one night without eating." The bandit could object, so he just sat there and looking at the ground.

Roland then walked up a hill overlooking the village, and begun to stare up at the moon. The moon was full and brightly illuminating the plains of Swadia as far as Roland could see. As he looked at the moon, his mind returned to home. It was three years since he wound up in Calradia through some unexplainable means, and he was beginning to feel a little homesick. However this was not the first time he felt homesick, it came and went occasionally. But this time it was accompanied with guilt. He had been unable to save a person who had stumbled upon this world accidentally, and had been burned all because of his profession.

Hearing footsteps Roland looked over his shoulder and saw Haydee walking up the hill towards him. Pretending like he did not see her coming he returned to looking at the moon. When she arrived at the top of the hill with him, she too stared at the moon. After a minute of silence, Haydee spoke up, "Are you alright captain? You've seemed rather distant tonight."

Roland sighed deeply, and continued to look at the moon, picking his words carefully. Knowing what to say he then looked into Haydee's eye and said, "I was reminded of my home earlier today. It made me recall that this is not my homeland." He wanted to say world, but the word "world" had not been discovered yet. Then Roland looked over to the brunt stake where the "witch" was burned, "I don't belong here."

Haydee then sighed deeply in thought, she felt that Roland was being purposefully vague, but she knew he had his reasons. He'd never lead the wolves astray or purposely lie or not be specific unless he had a reason. Thinking of an answer with care, she looked over the village looked at the wolves doing their various activities, and found her answer.

"Before I met you, I didn't belong anywhere. I was a scared young noble naive girl on the run from my uncle. When you found me, you came in a recued me. You gave me a reason to fight on and a chance to." The she returned her gaze back upon the village, and started to pick out specific examples, "Alayen was thrown out of his family before you can and recruited him, Ymira ran away from her father, and many of the other wolves where outlaws at some point." The she came to her point, "We all didn't belong anywhere until we found you Roland. You gave a place where we all belonged. A place that none of us wants to leave. You gave us the wolves."

Haydee looked at Roland to gage his reaction. He looked at her surprised. After a moment he began to chuckle. Smiling pleasantly he said, "Your right Haydee." After that he began to feel better. Smiling again he reassured her, "I'm fine, now."

"Good," she said folding her arms, "because we need you down there." Roland then began to worry that something had happened. "Jeremus is winning at cards again and he is about to help Klethi lose all of her coin." Sighing relieved, Roland laughed to himself then followed Haydee as she led him to the game.

Switching spots with the frustrated Klethi, Roland was able to win back most of her money before ending the game at about midnight. At that time he ordered the feast to end and the wolves to return to their tents, (which they had set up before the feast), in order to be able to leave at first light with at least a decent amount of sleep. Hearing most the men grumble and complain, he was not discouraged to offer punishment for not complying. Although he didn't say what it was, most of the men knew better then to test the threat. Still grumbling, they reluctantly went to their tents and turned in for the night.

Following their example, Roland then turned toward his tent. As he did, he noticed a figure waiting in his tent. Cautiously moving closer, opened the flap quickly and took the figure by surprise. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness he saw a young girl sitting on Roland's cot. She was one of the village girls, he could tell by her clothes.

"Can I help you?" Roland asked flatly.

"Please zer. Me name's Bretina. I's juz wanna thank you zer, for freeing ours village." The girl was about medium height, she had dirty brown hair, a long wide and unattractive face, that was also covered in dirt. She did not have a pretty face, nor was it plain, it was merely the borderline of ugly to mediocre, (if that makes any sense). The she got up off of his cot, she appeared to be nervous for some reason. Then she let her intentions known. "I's here to give meself to you, zer." As she said that she smiled shyly, showing set of ugly brown and disordered teeth, and began to undo her dress belt.

Realize what she was getting at, Roland grabbed her hands and stopped her from undoing the knot. Sighing deeply he turned her down, "Look, I am very honored you would "offer" this to me. But right now I am extremely tired, all I want to do is lay down and sleep." Which was only half the reason he didn't want to sleep with her, the other half was her teeth killed the mood and she was not that pretty. "If you want to thank me, please let me get my rest. Ok?" She then looked at him surprised. She then nodded and redid the knot on her belt and left the tent.

After she left, Roland then laid in his cot, too tired to even take of his armor. Shaking his head about what just happened, he then realized that the girl was no more then sixteen years old. Remembering it was not uncommon in the same era back on earth he gave a little shudder. It was gross in his mind. Pushing that aside from his mind he let his eyelids sink and drifted of into sleep instantly.

That night, the village slept easily knowing that they were free form the oppression of the bandits. And they had Roland and the Wolves of Calradia to thank for it.

End Notes-

The Village of Yaragar.

I tried to follow Yaragar's design as best as I could. I hope it doesn't confuse anyone.

Mount and Blade 2

For those of you that are interested, there was a sample of the alpha version of MaB2 on youtube. Although one could only see about 15 seconds of the game itself, I could immediately see an improvement in the graphic and 3D models. It isn't fully up to what all the high end games would have as far as grapchics but none the less, it is a significant improvement over the previous game's graphics. It made my want tot buy it now. Of course it is merely this alpha and not the final version of the game, so who is to say if it will turn out that way.

Beta Reader

I would like to have someone beta read this story. If anyone is interested please let me know.

Cheers,  
Indogma


	6. Uxkhal

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Uxkhal.

Roland awoke in the morning to find himself one of the last of the wolves to get up. Exited his tent he saw most of the wolves already out of their tents and eating makeshift breakfasts. A rule of the wolves was they had to make their own breakfasts, every other meal they where provided with from Roland's own pocket. It was a way to make the wolves more self-sufficient. In case they ever were in a situation where they had had to make their own meals.

After snaking a small meal, Roland then began to pack, and his men followed in suit. When all the wolves were ready, they were greeted by the villagers who gathered in the center of the village. They all said farewell and best of luck to the wolves. The wolves then said goodbye and left the village of Yaragar.

After of two hours on the plains, Jeremus then quickened his pace and rode up next to Roland. "I hear you had a visitor last night," he said jokingly. Roland look over at him crossly, "Yes I did. I'm assuming you had a hand in that Jeremus." The man just smiled, "Not me sir, but I heard some of the men talking about it. The men were worried that you were too "wound up" recently, and wanted to do something to help "relieve" that. I just wanted to see if they went through with it, sir." Roland looked at Jeremus, he was one of his many links between the men, able to tell the men what to do to get on Roland's good side and what to avoid as to not make him angry. Also he was the troops surgeon, and perhaps one of the best in all of Calradia. In Roland's mind that also dubbed him as the troop psychologist. He could tell the troops mood, no matter how hard they tried to hide it from him.

"Tell the men if they do that again, I'll skin them alive. If they want to surprise me, give me a fruit basket or something other then what they did last night. Ok?" Roland deep down knew he would never do that, but it was better they did not know that then a repeat of last night.

"They were just trying to help, sir. They meant no disrespect. They said they picked the prettiest one of the village sir." Roland found that both hard to believe, yet it wouldn't surprise him if it were true. Shaking his head, he corrected himself, "It's not that I do not appreciate the thought. It's just I am not a fan of the act of turning a young girl like that into a prostitute. Plus she was too young for my tastes."

Jeremus nodded understandingly. Over the three years he knew Roland, he had never known him to disrespect a girl, or anyone whatever they met despite their class. Some of the women that the wolves took on were former prostitutes looking for a chance of redemption, and Roland gave then it. "Just tell the men to surprise me some other way, ok Jeremus?" The surgeon nodded then returned to the ranks.

Within the end of the morning, the wolves were in sight of Uxkhal. Approaching the city gates, Roland then rode to the front of the group. Just outside the city a pair of Swadian Sergeants walked up to the group and shout, "Name and business here!"

Roland then halted his me, and rode a few paces ahead of them and replied, "The Wolves of Calradia!" The two sergeants looked at each other and replied, "Roland?"

Hearing his name, Roland was reminded that he was sort of a celebrity in Calradia. He often forgot about it but it always had a way of reminding him. "Who else?" He asked sarcastically.

The two sergeants looked at each other, the elder one stepped forward and waved them through. Roland then followed his example and singled the wolves to go through into Uxkhal. Moving to the side to let his troops in, Roland then asked one of the sergeants, "Is the count in the city?"

"Count Delinard? Yes sir, he arrived in the city a few days ago. Had some bad luck out in the field and he lost a good number of his men and is recovering in the castle presently."

"Could you send him a message? Let him know I am in town and plan to see him if he would have me."

"I'll send a runner sir."

"Would you? Thanks." Then Roland joined his men and entered into Uxkhal.

Inside the city the wolves stopped in front of a crossroads. Roland then rode up in front of them and began to bark out orders. "Ok, listen up! Alayen, Deshavi and Matheld, you and your men escort these bandits to the dungeons. See if any of them have bounties on them, and collect what you can." The three companions nodded and took off with their men and the bandit towards the direction of the castle dungeons. "Karin, Jeremus, Bunduk, got and pick up any supplies and food we may need. Ymira and I will take the iron. The rest of you find us lodging for the night. I believe we be here all day." Pausing to look over the men he then said, "Fall out."

However, before Roland could take a step, there came a voice from behind him. "Well, well, well. It's Roland and his "Pups."" Roland recognized the voice and cringed at the though of her being here. He turned to find his fears realized. A pretty women with flowing red hair and freckles stood behind him. She had a smile on her face and had one of her hand on her hip and another on a sword tied around her belt. She wore a light plate armor suit with a surcoat over it that had a red rose on it with red borders.

"Oh if it isn't Ali." Roland said annoyed. "Come no now, I thought you'd be happier to see me," she said playfully. "I as happy as one would be to greet the plague," he said not playfully. "Oh ho, still have that mouth of yours I see."

"Who is that?" Asked Firentis.

"Her name is Ali. She is the leader of the mercenary troop the Roses." Said Jeremus, then he added sternly "she was a wolf, once." "Once? What happened?"

Jeremus then tried to condense the story as best he could. "About two years ago she had a falling out with Roland. They argued for days, then one morning she left with over half of the wolves in tow. Apparently she offered them better food and wages if they left Roland for her." "Why would anyone want to leave the wolves," asked Firentis. He loved the wolves and so did everyone else who joined. "Two years ago, Roland was not the leader he is now. He was more laid back, less strict and less responsible then he is now. The wolves where basically living from week to week, and we sometimes were not paid. Roland improved drastically after Ali did her little ." Then the two quieted down and listened to Roland and Ali's banter.

"What bring you to Uxkhal? Here to lick the counts boots?"

Ymira took the reigns of this answer, "We were hunting down a local bandit's nest."

Ali then turned and her smile changed to having no malice behind it, "Ah Ymira. I'm surprised you are still hanging around him. You know, if you ever get sick of being a wolf, there is always room for another sword sister in the Roses." The Roses where a young group of mercenaries that Ali founded as soon as he left the wolves and was the captain of them. They were well known as a troop that hires solely women. It was strange for this day and age but somehow she made it work.

Ymira shook her head, "Sorry but I think I will stay on here." Ali just shrugged, "suit yourself." Before she could say anything else, a young woman in the same surcoat as Ali walked up and interrupted the "reunion."

"Excuse me ma'am. We are ready to move out."

Ali nodded and turned back towards Roland. "Sorry about this but I have to go. Turns out some village is infested by some Rhodoks bandits, and we are getting paid to root them out." "What village?" asked Ymira. "Yaragar, we ran into a farmer in the inn and he offered whatever the village made last year to pay us to get rid of the bandits."

Roland and Ymira then quickly looked at each other, then looked back at Ali who was oblivious to what they knew. "Well best of luck with that," said Roland in monotone.

As Ali then mounted her horse, she wondered why Roland had said that, but brushed it aside with the thought of her current job. Ordering her troops to move up she then stopped in front of Ymira and said, "My offer still stands if you ever want to take it." "No thanks," she replied with a smile.

"Shame," Ali replied. Turning towards Roland she said with a mocking smile, she added, "Try it lighten up, Roland. You were so charming and friendly at one point. What ever happened?"

"Funny, I'm always like this when I am around you. Maybe you should leave so I can become charming and friendly once more," he said with a slight hint of anger.

"You need to fix that tongue of yours, Roland. It will lead you into nothing but trouble." With that she said, "Farewell," and left the city with the rest of the Roses.

As soon as Ali left rand of the Wolves, Ymira turned and asked, "You think we should have told her about Yaragar?"

Roland shook his head, "There is a saying in my homeland, "Never interrupt your enemy while his is making a mistake." And if anyone is an enemy to me, it's her."

Then he shook his head, and went back to work. "Alright you have your orders, get to it!" Then he turned to Ymira and said, "Come on, we have some iron to sell." And the group spilt up in the directions they needed to go, including Roland and Ymira who rode deeper into the city.

Along the way to their destination Roland then saw a leather tanner's shop and asked to stop for a moment. Leaving the horse with Ymira, he walked in and saw the shopkeeper. He then pulled out the pair of binoculars he found outside the village of Yaragar. "Excuse me," asked Roland, "Do you have any sort of satchel that would fit with this?" The storekeeper looked at the strange device with curiosity but then brushed it aside. It was not his business to ask. He then turned around and began to rummage through the satchels that he had, searching for one of the same size as the binoculars. Finding one that was about the same size, he handed it to Roland who compared it to the binoculars, a perfect match.

After paying the shopkeeper, Roland then returned to the street to find Ymira conversing with young merchant. As he approached, the merchant felt threatened and then ended the conversation. Roland then mounted his horse and looked back at the merchant walking away, then he looked at Ymira playfully. "Who was that?"

"Some merchant, Lawrence I think his name was." (I will love whoever gets that reference, haha). "He said he had never seen a girl in armor before, and he said it was attractive."

Roland chuckled, "That's why I hired you."

Ymira then stopped her horse and stared blankly after Roland. He stopped as well, and looked back with a big smile, "Well one of the reasons." Seeing her look not change, he added, "What?"

"You think I am pretty?"

"That's a loaded question, if I've ever heard one." Said Roland avoiding the question. "Besides is it really my opinion you want to hear, or Alayen's?" The young girl then lowered her head and began to blush. "I think I have my answer." Roland spurred his horse to move on the road, Ymira then followed and caught up asking, "What does he say about me?"

Roland hesitated to answer, knowing he had to be delicate with this situation. Alayen had approached him before and said he admired her for being a strong fighter. However when he almost admitted his feeling toward her he brushed them aside stated that it would never work because she was not of noble blood. Sighing deeply, Roland begun. "He said he admires you, being a woman and fighting. He said you where pretty, and he would want to have relations with you." Ymira then began to blush wildly, "However, with the whole situation with his family right now has put him at odds with himself. So he does not want to become involved in any relationship right now, ok?"

Roland hated the fact he lied to Ymira, but it was better then saying "it's because your not noble." Roland hated that idea and wanted to strangle Alayen until he changed his mind. Looking ht her, he could tell she was disappointed, but it was less then it would have been with the truth. "Just give him time, he might come around."

"Thanks sir." Then she smiled, "if all else fails I have you." Then it was Roland's turn to blush a little and said, "Be careful what you say, I might just take you up on that."

Before either one could say anything else they heard the sound of a blacksmith's shop interrupted them, they had reached their destination. Dismounting they tied their horses outside the shop and then went inside.

The shop was unremarkable, as far as blacksmiths' shops go. In the front of the shop, there was a rack of weapons and armor for sell. Most of the weapons were poor quality, rusty, bent, and chipped. It seems as thought the smith did not care whether or no they would be stolen, they would not be missed if they were, and not worth being stolen. Roland picked up a rusty Nordic sword, holding the sword in his hand he examined the sword, finding too many flaws in it to even give it a value.

Putting it back on the rack, Roland then turned away from the rack and when deeper inside to the sounds of a hammer and an anvil working together.

Deeper in the shop, he found the owner of the shop in front of the forge heating an iron shaft to the point where he could beat an edge out of it. Another figure, an apprentice from the look of him, was adding air to forge. Not realizing they had company they continued to work. The owner then took the heated orange rod of iron out of the forge and beat to hit it repeated with a large hammer on the anvil. After a minute of pounding the iron to a point, Roland then shouted, "Hey! You know if you paid attention to costumers, you might actually sell some of this junk you call "smithing.""

The owner turned around, and looked at Roland with an angry look on his face. He was a giant man. He was stocky and had large muscles for years of working behind the forge. He had a beard that was peppered with white within the black hairs of his original color. His face was covered in soot from the forge, singling out his bright blue eyes from the rest of his face.

The man then put the iron rod into a barrel of water and steam began to flow up as soon as the two made contact with each other. Leaving the rod in the barrel he walked over and confronted Roland. "Well, maybe if punks like you didn't interrupt me while I was working I could get some work done, bastard." The then looked at each other, with what looked like anger in their eyes.

Then the smith chuckled, and cracked a smile, and Roland followed. The both began to laugh. "Haha, Roland! Good to see ya!" He said giving Roland a big bear hug, and Roland returned the hug with his own. "I've been fine Mic! How's business?"

"Busy as ever thanks to the war!" Then he looked over at his apprentice and shouted, "Oi, get some more coal for the forge. She looks 'bout ready to die on us!" The youth nodded and ran back further into the shop. Turning back toward Roland Mic saw the other figure and recognized her, "Ymira! How've ya been girl?"

"I have been fair," she said with a smile. "It's good to hear you are busy."

"Aye, since Swadia is at war with the Sultanate, and the Khanate, I have my hands full keeping up with the orders from the Count." The Mic motioned them over to a table, and pulled out three pints and filled them with ale and brought them over to Roland and Ymira as they sat in the table.

"So what brings the wolves all the way to Uxkhal, besides visiting an former wolf?"

"Work. Like always."

"Nothing changes does it?" Stated Mic before taking a drink from the pint. "Now, why stop here?"

"Well we have some iron to sell." Said Ymira.

Mic's interested was perked, "Really? Well you couldn't have picked a better time. Most of the town is despite for iron, in fact I'm on my last ingot now, and I still have orders comin' in!"

"Well we'd be happy to help," said Roland pulling out an iron ingot and placing it on the table. Mic the examined the iron carefully, and looked at the seal at the top of the iron. "Curaw iron…" Mic said reading the seal.

"Yes, we bought a couple of iron bars when we where their last. We haven't stopped in a town since then, so this is our first chance to sell it."

"Did ya buy it 'fore or after the Nords took over?" "Why would that matter?" Mic then looked at Ymira who begun to explain, "Allow me sir, " she then took the iron and used it like a prop to explain. "You see sir. The two different nations of the Nords and the Veagirs have two different ways of smelting iron. The Nords, as you know, are a battle frenzy people. They love to fight and in order to fight they need iron. So to stratify their demand their way of smelting the ore is quicker. They get the iron they need, but the down side is it's less durable. On the other hand, the Veagirs are not a battle loving people, and rather be behind strong iron rather than weak iron. So their method of smelting is slower and more delicate. Sure it takes longer but the plus side is that their iron is more durable, it is harder to break and some say it actually takes longer for rust to effect it compared to regular iron. In short sir, Veagirs iron is worth more then Nord iron. In fact this my be the last batch of iron from Curaw made in the Veagirs fashion."

After her little explanation, Mic laughed, "Ha ha. Spoken like a true merchant! You represent our fellow Rhodockians well, girl!" There had always been a bond between Mic and Ymira that Roland could see, they say it was because they both hailed from the Kingdom of Rhodoks, but Roland felt it went deeper then that. It was like Mic was the father Ymira never had, and to Mic, Ymira was the daughter he wished he had. There relationship was special, it was one of the reason Roland brought Ymira with him each time he visited Mic.

"Another reason why I hired you," teased Roland.

Mic then laughed out loud, "Hahahaah, ya' know I always expected you two to get together while I was in the wolves. What happened?" Roland and Ymira glanced and each other. Roland shrugged, "I guess we never were interested in each other." "Pity," said Mic.

"Anyway," bluted Roland ending the topic. "How much for the iron?" Mic then picked up the iron ingot and began to play with it in his hand. "How many of this do you have?" Asked Mic. "We have eleven bars, all that size."

Mic nodded then remained quiet, thinking about the price of the iron. "Regular price, I would pay about 240 denars. However, with the high demand, I'd pay 300."

Ymira then nodded, it was a very good deal. She then looked at Roland to gage his reaction. It had not changed, then he raised his hand, "Before we go any further, Mic. There is another matter we must discuss." Mic looked surprised, he even surprised Ymira. "On the way here I noticed some of my men's suit of armor are in complete disrepair."

Then he grabbed Ymira's arm and lifted it above her head, revealing a blemish in her plate armor right under the armpit. It had rusted from the top of the plate, directly under the armpit, and went down to about and inch down the side of the breastplate, beside the rust on plate there was a large crack beside the leather strap that held the breastplate and the back plate of her suit of armor. "See?"

Mic then looked closer at the armor, "Aye, that will require some work."

"Exactly, I was hoping you would do the repair work for free. Provided we knock the price down on the iron. What do you say?"

Mic nodes, "How much?"

"Well, I'd be happy to sell at regular price, minus some of the price for a former wolf. Say, 189 a piece."

Both Ymira and Mic looked at Roland with shook. The price was generous, even if there was an over stock. An often minimal was 200 for iron. But Roland was intentionally was going lower. "Are you sure?" asked Mic. "Positive," said Roland, "I'd like to help a friend in need. You need the iron more then me. So please take it."

"No," said Mic shaking his head. "I can't take it at that price. 200 even, plus the work on the armor. No less."

"Fine, you have a deal," holding his hand out, Mic took it and gripped it tight and smiled. "I'll get ya money." "And we'll get your iron." Once all the iron ingots were unpacked, Mic came out with the amount agreed on. They exchanged the two goods and finished off their ales. Roland was not a big fan of ale, but Mic had the persona to make anyone a fan of ale.

Ymira then left her plate armor on the table the three had their ale earlier. Putting back on the surcoat, the only armor she had left was her chainmail. She felt odd, she had been accustomed to wearing her plate armor, now with just her chain mail she felt lighter then usual.

"I'll send the rest of the men who need there armor worked on," said Roland, mounting his horse. "I'll also have them tell you what inn we are staying at if you want to stop by for a pint."

"Ha, sounds good! I'll have Ymira's repaired by this afternoon. So you can send the rest over with her."

"Got it. Hope that iron helps out."

"It will." Looking into the shop, Mic added, "Where the blasted hell is that boy?!" And went further inside to look for him.

Leaving Mic's shop, Roland and Ymira then rode in the direction of the lord's castle. Along the way, Ymira then sped up her pace so she was even with Roland. "Roland, do you not think that you sold the iron a little too cheap? I mean at 200 it was generous, and he had to talk you up to that price. Were you trying to lose money?"

Roland then turned and smiled at Ymira, "Ymira, do you recall what I paid for the iron? About 98 denars per ingot. And I sold it for a little more then double what I bought them for. So either way, I turn out a profit."

"True, but the fact remains you could have made more then what you did sir."

"Ymira, not everything is about profit. I sold the iron cheap to remain on Mic's good side. He clearly needed the iron more then us, so there was no reason to sell it at a very high price. Also he was willing to place aside some of his orders in order to repair my troop's armor. So we have to compensate in for that. And finally he was a former wolf, and one your mottos is, "wolves look out for each other," and I still count him as a wolf in my eyes. So it's only right I sell it cheap. Ok?"

Ymira sighed sharply, and nodded. She saw his points but it still went against everything she was taught as a merchant's daughter. Yet she let it side. She trusted Roland.

"Anyway on to the castle." Said Roland. "Unless you want to return to the wolves."

Ymira shook her head, "No I'll stay. Besides I want to see Count Delinard, too." With that the two then quickened their pace to the castle. By the time they arrived at the castle, the sun was beginning to descend from it's highest point. Indicating the time to be afternoon.

After dismounting and leaving their horses with a stable boy, Ymira and Roland approached the castle. "Halt," said the castle guard. "Your names! And your business!" "Roland of the wolves, I am here to see Count Delinard." Then the guard turned toward Ymira, "and you?" "Ymira of the wolves." "What's a woman doing wearing armor," asked the guard sarcastically. Roland and Ymira half expected this, despite wolves' well known policy of hiring women as well as men, most of the people of Calradia still found odd to see someone like Ymira in armor.

"Does it matter?" asked Roland, "I sent a message toward the Count, and he is expecting me." The guard then signaled a runner to confirm. About a minute later, the runner returned and the guard let the two in the castle.

Inside the thrown room, Count Delinard sat at the end of a large feast table that was higher then the rest of the thrown room. As the Count stroked his beard he examined a map that showed the center of Calradia, including Uxkhal, Dhirim, Halar, Veluca, and Reyvadin. Deep in thought the Count then traced his line over the "border" between the Kingdom of Rhodoks and the Kingdom of Swadia. In truth, the boarders between each kingdom where very subjective, the only focal points they had were the villages and castles of the two different kingdoms, all of the land in between, was considered to be both the kingdom's land.

Hearing the door open, the Count looked up and saw two figures walk toward him. Getting up slowly, he smiled when he recognized the figures and the emblems walking toward him. "Roland!" he said in a big booming voice, "my friend, how are you?" "Cannot complain, Delinard." Ymira gave a small smile. She found it odd that Roland never bowed or gave homage to the count and the count never asked for any. They had a odd relationship.

"Last I heard, you where off in the front, with Henderson."

"Aye, I was. But I went off and engaged a force of Sarradaks, There was more then I expected, and we took a beating. We left the battle victorious, but I lost about a third of my men and another third were wounded, including me. Henderson then ordered me to return here and recover my forces until I am fit to fight again." Delinard sighed, "although it has taken longer then I expected. My wounds are taking longer then I'd hoped, and I have lost my recruit trainer as well. So the training of my men is taking longer then expected."

"Henderson still the marshal?" Asked Roland. Delinard nodded, "yes, who else?" Over the past couple of years, Henderson had proven himself a capable commander. Now he was one of the primary candidates for the marshal.

Presently Henderson had his work cut out for him. Swadia was at war with the Sarradak Sultanate and the Kherit Khanate.

"How dose the war look?" Asked Roland. Count Delinard shook his head, "Hard to say. The Khanate, just joined into this war, so I doubt they will not continue the war. The Sultanate, however, they may be forced to end the war sooner then they wanted." Roland and Ymira had confused look, "The Kingdom of Rhodoks are preparing for war. More then likely it's against the Sultanate," Concluded Delinard.

"What makes you so sure it's against the Sultanate?" asked Ymira.

The count smiled, "Our spies have informed us, Ymira, that the Rhodoks are on worst terms with the Sultanate then with us. In addition, about half of the Sultanate's forces are back in the castles recovering from Henderson's campaign. While we still have most of our forces."

"Does Henderson know of this?"

The count nodded, "yes, which was another reason he sent me back. With me back home in my own city, I will discourage and attack on Uxkhal from the south of us. Also Henderson suggest that I use our spies to try and convince both sides that they are preparing for war with each other."

"You are trying to help start the war?"

"We are trying to prevent a war with the Rhodoks, and if they happen to attack the Sultanate, and help end our war with them, then so be it."

Roland nodded, it was a cunning plan, one worthy of Henderson. If he could get the Sultanate and the Kingdom of Rhodoks to fight each other he could sue for a truce between the Sultanate and then shift all focus on the Khanate. It was dirty, but it would save lives. Swadian lives at least.

"But I digress," said the count pulling out a large purse of coins. "Here. Your payment for dealing with the bandit camp." "You've heard about that?" "Yes it is common knowledge by know."

"What about Yaragar? Have you heard anything about that?"

"Only that a group of Rhodok mountain bandits have moved in. If my men were at full strength, and if it were my village I'd march down there and run them out. Alas, I can do neither." "Who owns the village?" "Count Klargus, I'm afraid."

Roland knew the name. He was the original lord of Suno, that is, until he lost it to Henderson. Roland did not know the whole story of how he was given Suno, but he knew from experience that he hated anyone who liked Henderson. When he first mentioned Henderson, after first meeting Count Klargus, he flew into a hysterical fury, swearing and growing red in the face. After that Roland made sure he never conversed with the count again.

"He's brutal and could care less about the village," continued Count Delinard, "as long as it gives him money to fund his men."

"It certainly seemed that way when we stopped by."

Delinard, looking confused at the two, asked, "You were there recently?"

Both Roland and Ymira nodded. "We just came from there." Roland then smiled, "We took care of the bandits."

"I see," smiled the Count. "Then I guess it's ok to tell you that I've informed the Roses about it village's problem."

"We ran into them as we entered the city."

Count Delinard smiled, then reached into a chest from behind the table, and pulled out two bags of coins. Then he handed them to Roland saying, "here. 1500 daners for the bandit camp, as per our agreement. And another 1000 for the village's liberation."

"Why so much?" asked Roland.

"Because, hopefully, once mercenaries hear that I pay for model behavior, they may prevent further villages from becoming victims like Yaragar. Plus I know you would have rescued the village for nothing, and I wanted to reward you for that."

"Thank you." Said Roland shaking the count's hand. "You're welcome, friend. Tell me do you have and supper plans? I'd be happy to prepare a small feast and invite my daughter Elina to dine with us."

Roland moaned inside. He unwilling had become the subject of Lady Elina's affections, all through merely introducing himself at a feast in Suno. Now it had become an uncomfortable situation. She had become infatuated, to the point of becoming stalker. It was the only reason he did not like retuning to the city of Uxkhal.

Making an excuse, Roland claimed, "I'm sorry, but I have already made plans with my men." That was half true, he had expected to meet Mic later on but he never set a time to meet.

"Too bad. Next time perhaps."

"Perhaps," repeated Roland. Then he took the count's hand, "well we must be off. Hope you heal quickly." "Safe travels Roland," countered the count, shaking his hand. And the two wolves then turned and exited the thrown room and then the castle.

After visiting the castle Roland and Ymira began to search the city for the tavern the wolves decided to stay at. As they approached one of their more frequent stops, they noticed a group of familiar horses in a stable across the street. Painting the inn facing the stable as the home of the wolves for tonight. Following the other's example, they rented a stall for their horses and went to the inn.

Inside, Roland was surprised how well disciplined the rest of the wolves where behaving. Most where gathered around tables and drinking ale. Some where loud and boisterous. However they were not doing anything to damage the inn or threatened to become a threat to other guest at the inn. Now that Roland was here, the wolves now knew they would not misbehave, less they wanted his wrath.

Looking around, they saw a two open seats at a table, were Jeremus, Alayen, Deshavi, Katrin and Kelthi were sitting at. Taking the seats, Roland could tell the rest of the day was a success.

"How were the prisoners?" Roland asked Alayen, and Deshavi.

"Corporative, to say the least." Answered Alayen, "Some had bounties on their heads but the total for all of them was only 569 daners," he said placing a coin purse on the table, "that's it there." Roland then looked at Jeremus, "how'd supply shopping go?" "About the same," replied Jeremus, "we found everything we needed, but the ruddy merchants ran us up to 1073 daners. We barely had enough to pay for it." He said placing a piece of paper on the table—a bill. "How about you two?" Jeremus countered. Roland then threw the three coin purses he received today on the table. "2200 daners from the iron we sold today, 1500 for clearing out the bandit camp, and an extra 1000 for assisting the village of Yaragar." Roland could tell the others were impressed, that meant the wolves made 4,196 daners just from taking one job and selling some iron.

"And then there is the salt as well," added Katrin. Roland had completely forgotten about the salt. When they discovered the bandit's cache of food, they found seven full bags of salt. Since the village was unable to use all of it, they gave it to the wolves as "Payment."

"What is the price of salt here Ymira?" Asked Roland, but Roland's question seemed to fall on deaf ears. She seemed to be staring off into space. "Ymira?" She then awoke from her trance, "Hm? Oh, salt?" She began to rub her head jogging through her mind prices and values of salt. "An average fair price is about 200 per bag. Anything above that is a very good price."

"Do you think we can sell it here for a good price?" Asked Jeremus.

"Doubtful," she said shaking her head, "While riding with Roland, I saw at least one bag of salt at every vendor we rode by. So I bet there is not a high demand for salt in this city."

"Where would the best price be?"

"Well, Yalen has the best price in Calradia," then she looked at Roland, recalling the situation she was in. I was unwise to have her return to Rhodoks, at least right now. "Or from what I recall Praven has a very good price," she said offering an alternative destination. Now that that was a better destination.

"Speaking of which, what is our next destination, captain?" Asked Alayen.

"North," replied Roland. "I've heard that the sea raiders and the talga bandits have become unbearable up there. So much so that small caravans won't even travel up there without and escort. They are bound to have the cargos of caravans in their possession, and I feel it is only right that we take care of them." Looking round the table Roland saw that none of them were against the idea. About a year ago they had done something similar, and they all agreed that it was a good idea.

"Any objections?" All of them shook their heads, "no."

"Good," said Roland. "Is all of the wolves here?"

"Most of them," replied Jeremus. "Artimenner is in is room right now. He drank too much last night, and wants to sleep off his hangover. I offered to help relieve it, but you know how he respects my medical opinion. Apart from him Matheld is the only one who is not here. She said she had some business in town, but she will be back later."

"Ok, Ymira. Take all of the wolves that need their armor serviced, and head over to Mic's. If your armor is ready, pick it up as well and then return." Then he leaned in close as added in a whisper, "also keep your ears open for prices and jobs heading north."

Ymira nodded then began to ask around, seeing if any of the wolves needed repairs done on their armor. After gathering about thirty of them, Ymira then lead them out of the inn. When she and the wolves left the inn, Roland then walked over to Alayen and placing his hand of his shoulder said, "We need to talk."

Walking outside Roland then turned and confronted Alayen. "Look, Alayen. You need make a decision." Alayen was taken aback by the sudden confrontation.

"I'm sorry sir? Have I failed the wolves in some."

"It's not about the wolves, Alayen. It's about Ymira." Alayen's body language changed after hearing her name, he became nervous. "What about her?" "You need to clarify your feeling towards her. She is enamored with you, and so are you, but here you are not doing anything. Why?"

He sighed deeply, "Nothing would make me happier, sir. But she's not noble sir. If she was, I would not hesitate." It took all of Roland's might to stop him from punching Alayen. It was a pathetic excuse, one Roland hated with all of his heart. "Two things about that. First off, you are not nobility anymore. Your father threw you out, no have longer any ties to the nobility of Veagirs. Do you not remember?" Roland knew he was putting salt into an old would of Alayen, but he felt it was need. "And my next point, is in my homeland. We have proven that there is no such thing as "noble" blood. Your blood is the same as hers. There is no difference. Got it? So don't ever use that excuse again." Then he moved in closer and stared directly in Alayen's eyes, "now you have nothing in your way. So you have a choice now, either you pursue her, or you don't. But don't remain in the middle of it and sting her along. I care about her too much to let that happen. Understand?" Alayen then nodded slowly, Roland backed away and let him go into the inn.

Breathing deeply, Roland stood there let the moment sink in. "Seems like I missed something," came a voice from behind Roland. He turned and saw the blonde Nord woman, Matheld, standing behind him with one hand on her axe belt, (a belt to hold throwing axes). Clearly she had found the whole scene amusing, she had a giant smile on her face. A rare sight, to see her smile.

"Where were you?" asked Roland smiling back.

"Out," she answered. "Clearly," replied Roland unimpressed by her answer, "What for?" The smile disappeared from her face, "None of your damn business." Roland then folded his arms, "Look Matheld. When I hired you I agreed to leave you alone, but I also agreed to help you when I could. If you give me a little of info I might be able to help you." Matheld sighed, "I was looking for an ax." "Don't you have enough axes?" She shook her head, "This one is…"special." It was my late husband's. My brother in law sold it to pay off some debts he had. Another reason he disowned me." "What does the ax look, like." "It is named Knarrate or "Ship-Breaker" in accent Nord. Although many call it the "Moonax" because it shines brightly like rays from the moon, from it's polished steel blade. It has the Nordic rune for Moon on it's side." "Why is it called "Ship-Breaker'?

"During the "Unresting War", when the different Nordic villages where fighting each other, my husband's family was one of the top villages in the war. One of their secrets was this weapon. In Nordic culture, the prosperity of a coastal village is told by how many Knarrs, (Nordic ships, aka Viking ships), the village possesses. And the villages often tried to sink other village's Knarrs. According the my late husband this ax along had been the death of four of other villages' Knarrs. With one blow, they were able to smash a hole into the hull of each ship. Causing them to sink. And the ax as been in my husband's family ever since."

"What does the rune look like?" Matheld then took out a sketch of the ax, "I drew it from memory," admitted Matheld, "it is not much but it helps store keepers see what I am looking for." "Any luck?" "None, I don't even know who he sold it to. Not even that lead."

Roland stared at the sketch, "can I have this so I have a picture of what to be looking for." Matheld shrugged, "yes. I can draw another. But see what good it will do." "Just let me try." Shaking her head in disbelief Matheld then entered into the inn. Roland smiled, compared to the rest of the companions; Matheld was the least open of any of them. She was often reclusive, and not make small talk easily. This was a huge step, at least in Roland's mind.

Returning into the inn. Roland killed time will waiting for Ymira and Mic to return. He ordered some wine, the only type of alcohol he would drink. Buying a cheap wine, he was able to pace himself a little easier due to the sour taste that accompanied it. After about an hour of waiting, a young man approached Roland. His clothes placed him as a middle class citizen. On his back he carried a lute, which pegged him as a bard. "Excuse me." He said politely, "are you by any chance Roland of the Wolves?"

"What if I am?" Said Roland.

The bard then smiled brightly, "Dear sir, my name is Perry, a wandering bard if you will but I can guarantee you, you will find no one better then me, sir!" "What does that have anything to do with me?" "Well sir. The wolves have made themselves quite a name for themselves in Calradia, but I can make the Wolves all the more famous. I can sing songs of your bravery and songs of the Wolves' handsome leader, Roland. And how he alone slew a 1000 men in one night." Then he smiled, "all this I can offer you and your men for… lets say a thousand daners a week."

Roland was not amused. He was not a fan of bard's music in the slightest. It had very little structure and to him was primitive for music to him. In addition very bard he had met, including this own was arrogant and full of himself beyond a fault. Not only that his price was higher than what he paid his men.

"Look Perry," Roland began in an even tone. Then it changed to a spiteful tone, "You take me for some egotistical mercenary captain with half a brain. First off, I do not care about what people say about me. Never had and will. Second, I am confident that the wolves can find work on our own without needing some bard spread our name around. Third, I wouldn't pay you 100 daners a week to do what you promised to do, much less one thousand! So please don't waste my time with your outrageous offer." Roland then turned around to end the talk.

Unknown to Roland, Perry was not a bard to take "no" for answer. Perry made up his mind then and there that he would follow the wolves until Roland hired him.

About an hour later, Ymira and Mic arrived to the inn. When they entered through the doorway, Roland noticed a look of concern on both of their faces. They walked slowly towards Roland. "What's the matter?" He asked.

Ymira spoke first, "We have a situation, sir." "It's my apprentice Roland!" Blurted out Mic. "He's in trouble with the city guard, and scared for his life." Roland held his hands out to clam Mic down, "Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Mic. Start form the beginning."

Breathing deeply, Mic began to recall the event. "I was right after you two left, and I went after to go find him. I found him out behind the shop," then he paused, "in a scuff with a city guard." "What were they fighting about?" "Apparently the guard was beatin' two orphans. Before I found him, my apprentice was an orphan. Seein' fellow orphans in trouble he lost all of his sense and attacked the guard. When I arrived back there I threw the guard off of my apprentice and out on the street. Awhile later, the guard came back with a few of his men. The bastard was mad at me, but more with my apprentice. They began to threaten the boy, claiming he was "under arrest" for assaulting a city guard. They had more of them and had better weapons then my shop. It seemed that I was gonna have to give him up, then…"

"Then we show up and frighten off the guards," added Ymira. "Aye," agreed Mic, "if they didn't show up I'd have to give him up." "Which leads us to now…" Mic nodded, "Aye, his safe until the Wolves leave, then… they will not be so nice to us." "What can the wolves do?"

"I want you to take him with you, Roland. It is the safest place for him. And it might even do some good for him."

Roland then had a flash back of a similar scene. When Roland first met Mic, he was in the exact same situation. Roland and the newly founded Wolves had made a stop in Yalen. The wolves decided to rest up in a local inn. As the night progress, a poor and worried blacksmith stumbled in to the inn. He ordered ale and sat at a table alone. Roland glanced at the smith, who returned the glance with ferocity. "Who the hell are you looking at?" Asked the blacksmith in an angry husky voice. Roland stuttered for words, but before he could answer the smith rushed and grabbed Roland's collar and picked him off the ground. "What? The sight of a simple blacksmith makes you pity him? Huh? I oughta kill you, I'm gonna!,I'm…I'm…" The smith's fury then faded into sorry. "I'm done for…" He set Roland down and returned to his seat. Roland then sat beside the smith, "what is wrong?' "It's a sad story. I made a suit of armor for a lord's son. After I made it, the lord's son then went into battle. In the battle he was critically wounded, and later died because of his wounds." "Let me guess, he blamed you for his death." The smith nodded, "He claims my "poor excuse" of an armor was the reason his son died. Now he has run me out of house and my shop. Now I have nothing, worst then nothing. Now he has the city guard after me. It is only a matter of time before they find me."

Roland then smiled vividly, "I can help with that! You see sir I have a company of mercenaries, and we can get you out of the city." "Y-you can?" "Hm mh, of course. I'll even pay for your room for tonight." "Thank you sir." "What's your name?" "Mic." "Roland. Now go get your belongings and met us here." The smith then chugged the pint of ale he ordered, and hurried out the door. Roland just sat there and smiled. "You are too generous, you know that?" Came a voice from behind him. He stayed in his seat and watch a red haired girl pulled up the chair opposite side of him. "Come on, Ali." Roland said playfully, "Just trusted me. He'll fit in."

Presently Roland shook off the memory, "Can he fight?" Mic nodded, "he knows a bit. No more than what I knew, but enough to work with. How soon can you leave?"

"As soon as our armor is ready, but no earlier then tomorrow morning."

Mic smiled, "They will be ready by then, I'll make sure of that!"

"Ok have him pack his gear and met us here in the morning. We'll take him, but he better hold his own" Mic smiled, "Oh he will, he's a hard worker. I'll let him know, and get straight to work. The sooner the armor is ready the sooner you can leave."

"But about the guards?" Asked Ymira. Roland smiled, "I have a plan for that. Ymira find a runner to the castle." Ymira was lost, "Ok? What for?" "I'm going to call in a favor, and have Count Delinard escort us out of the city." Ymira was still lost but did what was asked of her.

When she came back with a runner, Roland had a note ready for the Count. "Take this to the Count, and bring back his answer. 5 daners once you return, 10 if you return within an hour. Now go!" And the runner was off.

Once the runner was off Roland and Ymira retuned to the inn, where the rest of the wolves were. As they entered, Ymira's hand was clasped. She looked down and saw that bard, Perry, caressing her hand. "Oh, fair maiden of the Wolves. What is your heavenly name?" "Ymira," she said, the question caught her off guard. "Oh a name worthy of the fairest angel. Perhaps I could have you listen to some of my poetry…" He got no further, Roland's foot kissed Perry's lips, (or in the game pressing "E") causing him to roll over and crash into the wall of the tavern.

"I thought I told you, the wolves don't need a bard." And the two went further into the inn. "Who was that?" "Perry, a bard." "Ah, didn't take rejection well, I take it?" "No, he is a persistent bugger. I doubt he will leave us alone tonight. But by tomorrow he should not be a problem."

"Oh sir, I found a caravan looking for an escort toward Praven." "What's the pay." "They're offering 500 daners if we can get them there within three days. They are carrying grain to be turned into ale." "Good, let them know we'll take the job."

"Excuse me," came yet another unknown voice. (Kinda repetitive…). "What now," sighed Roland. He turned and saw a brown haired figure with a small beard around his mouth. "My name is Lezalit, and I was hoping to talk with you sir." "You and everyone else," companied Roland. Then he sighed sharply, "continue." "I was hoping you were in need of a professional knight trainer." "Knight trainer?" "Yes, I am skilled enough to train a raw recruits into knights in one week. I may be tough, but I'd rather train them rough and have them be prepared rather then soft and unprepared for a fight."

"I agree," Roland turned and saw Artimenner up and walking down the steps. He looked groggy and rough, but alive. "Our men could use some extra discipline sir, and I for one feel this man can provide it." Roland was surprised; Artimenner rarely threw his support behind anyone. Much less complete strangers.

Going it over in his head, he went over the pros and cons. An extra trainer would be helpful, if he what he said was true. On the other hand, trusting someone with skills can be dangerous. A previous experience from a man who claimed he was the best before, turned out to be nothing more then a bandit. Borcha was his name, and he a reminder Roland to be careful whom he hired. However, Artimenner's support was a big help, for Lezalit. Ymira then leaned in close and said, "Sir, a moment." They walked a few feet away from Lezalit. "I don't like him sir, he seems too sure of himself." "Funny, you said the exact same thing about Alayen when we first met him." "I was wrong about him, sir." "And you could be wrong about him." Ymira was about to object but Roland raised his hand to stop her, "Don't worry, I'm not going to trust him right away. Just give him a chance, can you do that?" Ymira sighed sharply, and nodded reluctantly.

"Ok," said Roland walking back to Lezalit. "You are in, however. You are under Artimenner's command and his guidance. He will be responsible for you and you will do what ever he says. If he tells you to jump five feet, you jump six. Got it?" The man nodded. "Good we leave first thing in the morning. Hopefully."

And with that, Roland went deeper in the inn. He saw Haydee and Jeremus playing a game of Vert and Alayen watching attentively, and he joined in and observed. Vert was a lot like Chess, except the board was one space shorter and there were few pieces. Also there were two "king" pieces, one "Pure" the other a "Bastard" piece. The game could be over several ways. The game had a turn limit. Each side had 25 stones that represented the turn each player had left, when they made a move, they would place the stones in a cup. At the end of the game both sides compare their king pieces, if one side had their "Pure" piece and the other only had their "Bastard" the one with the "Pure" piece would win. Another way to win is to take both of the players "king" figures before the moves are over. However, unlike chess, in Vert, draws where far more common. A draw happens when the two players had the same king piece or both of the pieces at the end of the turn limit.

In this specific game, Haydee had the advantage. She had already took Jeremus's Pure and was a few moves away from opening a gap to his bastard. Jeremus rubbed his hands in thought trying to figure a way to turn the game around. As the game progressed, Roland felt a pain of sleep in his eyes, but had to wait for the runner. Luckily, the runner returned with the Count's reply. If he had to guess, he made it within a hour, so Roland paid him 10 daners.

Now that his plan was in place, Roland walked upstairs in the inn and went to bed.

In the morning the wolves proved themselves as a quick campers. Since they where in an inn it merely took twenty minutes to have them ready. They then rode towards the city gate. There they saw a cart full of the wolves' armor. Mic stood in front of the cart along with three figures in cloaks stood in front of the cart. "I was under the impression I was only getting one, who are the other two." The two other figures were smaller then the larger one. The larger one stepped forward and pulled off his hood. Roland recognized him as Mic's apprentice. "Please sir. They are the orphans I was protecting. If I leave the guard will take his anger out on them. They are not safe here. Please sir, help them." Roland then looked at Mic, "He insisted, Roland. I told it'd be up to you."

Roland then rubbed his head trying to think of what to do. Then an idea came to him. "Katrin," she walked up, "you said you would like some help preparing the meals. You think they could help." "Aye, laddie. I could learn them in, but an extra pair of hands would be great." "Then you have two pairs." He then looked at the apprentice, "What's your guys' names?" "Mine is Floyd. The other two, do not have names." "Well they need names." Roland then walked up al looked over the two orphans, they where no older then fourteen and sixteen, the elder one was a young strong boy, the other was his sister. They looked alike, both had dirty faces and brown hair.

Looking at them, Roland smiled, "We would like to name you two. You, would you mind being called, "Kent?"" The boy shook head, "No sir, Kent sounds like a fine name." "And you," said Roland looking at the girl, "how about "Joan"?" The young girl smiled to say yes. "Good," he said in a soft voice.

"What are we? A orphanage?" Roland turned and saw Lezalit standing in front of the rest of the wolves. "Last time I checked, I decide who is hired." Lezalit then back down and returned to his ranks. "All right men, gather your armor. We may have some time to kill."

Roland then noticed how tired Mic looked, "Long night?" "Aye," he replied not caring. Then Mic asked, "What are you waiting for?" "Our escort, and the people we are going to be escorting." Just after saying that both the Count and the merchant caravan approached the crossroads just outside the city gates. Roland rode up to the caravan and introduced himself. Telling the merchant of their plan, the caravan leader was unsure, but agreed to go along with it. Then Roland rode over and greeted the Count.

"Roland!" Greeted the count, "I must admit. It is a strange request to escort you out of the city personally. Might I ask why?"

Roland shrugged, "I just wanted to share the morning with you. I bet you've been in the castle all day, and just wanted to get you out for a day."

"Thanks my friend, I could use a ride." Roland smiled and then brought the three groups together. And they rode out of the city. As they did Roland the out loud curse of one of the city guards. Roland then smiled to himself the plan had work. The city guard might have stopped the wolves and searched for the three orphans, but there was no way they would stop the Count from leaving the city. And if they left at the same time, it would allow them to leave without a problem.

Both the Count and Roland took the lead, leading the mass of men out of the city. As they rode east the count told Roland that he had to return soon, agreeing to that, Roland let the Count go his own way, leaving the Wolves and the caravan all alone as they headed east, toward Praven. Their next destination.

End Notes-

It was a long chapter. But at this point, I am no longer surprised if the stories come out longer then expect. It happens a lot.


	7. Jeremus: The Balding Surgeon

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

-Recruitment Stories-

These stories are not apart of the main story, but rather a side story that explains how each of the companions was recruited. I felt I could have a lot of fun writing about how Roland finds each one. Also I don't plan to have Roland recruit all of them in an inn.

The Balding Surgeon.

Roland was riding along on his horse through the city of Suno. He was alone and carefree, plotting how he would gather a batch of mercenaries. Seeing the sign of one of the inns of Suno, he decided to stop at there and get a quick drink. Placing his newly acquired horse in a local stable, he then put on the rusty chain and belted his sword and slung the crossbow on his back. He wanted to look the part of a mercenary captain, so he would not look awkward going in.

Entering the inn, Roland found it bustling with activity. Men were playing dice, Vert, and other assortment of games. Others where talking aloud of what rumors they heard, were they were from and their current destination and why. And others were quiet, and avoiding any sort of engagement; usually people like that were running away from something. And people never bothered them.

Walking up to the bar the innkeeper saw Roland and asked, "What's ya drink?" Roland shook his head, "No thanks, I was wondering if you knew if any one here was a mercenary in need of work?" The innkeeper looked down at Roland, who was smiling.

"Look here boy," the innkeeper said, "I don't ask about mens' business. I just give them drinks." Then the he leaned in closer and said, "You want a little advice? Look at the patrons. You can always tell a mercenary from anyone else. Mercenaries often wear leather or heavy armor, and always carry a weapon or two. It would be hard for any mercenaries to travel, so they are often in groups. Travelers although, do not wear armor, but they do carry at least a knife and travel in groups." Roland nodded.

"Also look at how they are drinking, the ones who are drinking heavily are the ones that are doing well; they do not care about money, they have enough money for a while. The ones who are drinking slowly are the ones who are out of work, not wasting any more coin then needed." Then he looked at Roland, "does that help?"

"Very much, thanks." Said Roland turning away from the bar and, using the knew information, observed the patrons of the inn. Looking for people who seemed to need the money.

Roland then singled out three different groups of men. All of them seemed to be drinking their drinks carefully, and slowly. Two of the groups had lightweight leather armor, and there were more of them in the party. One group had crossbows on their backs, mercenary crossbow men. The third group was the fewest in number, but were the best outfitted. They had suits of chain mail and metal boots as well as helmets.

Roland then stopped by each of the three groups to talk to them. He found the innkeeper's advice to be sound. All three groups were recently out of work and seeking another means of employment. Roland offered a job and all three a job on the spot and all three agreed. After finding out about the men, he discovered that the four better-equipped men had horses, however the other ten, five had crossbows, did not.

After acquiring a place for all of them to sit. Roland introduced himself, and had his men do like wise. After introductions, Roland then began to discuss pay of the men. The men agreed to a based pay of ten coins per week, plus the cost of up keep for their weapons, armor and horses. This meant the better equipped would be paid more because of upkeep. All of the men understood the reasoning and agreed to it.

After agreeing on prices, Roland then gave them the rest of the day off, fore it was the afternoon and the party could not gain a lot of distance today. Better to get a fresh start in the morning. All of the men then went off into the inn.

Sitting in alone at table, Roland then watched the patrons of the inn. Most had no reason other then recreation for being there. Then a man came in through the door. He wore a straggly dark rode with fur round the collar, and he walked with a wooden staff, pretending to use it as support. He had a wide face and a wide nose. He had dark red hair balding at the top of his head, and had his hair cut like a medieval monk. Roland decided to call him Friar Tuck, thanks to all the Robin Hood movies.

The man walked up to the bar, bought a pint of ale, and then sat in a table by Roland. He did not look up from his drink, staring down into the pint and occasionally took a slip of the light brown liquid. Roland thought he had something on his mind, something that required most of his attention. But left the man alone.

The three men came into the inn. Unlike everyone else, they were not here for recreation—the sharp looking around told Roland that they were looking for someone. The one of them caught sight of the friar and singled him out to the other three. They moved slowly towards him, until all three surrounded him. He the man looked up, he saw three men around him.

"You, Jeremus?" One asked. "Yes, might I ask why?" Replied the would-be friar. The leader then grabbed his robe and picked him up. "Our boss wants his coin back, and we are here to collect it." "I don't understand," started Jeremus, "I did every thing I could for his son, no matter what I could have done he would have died from his wound. You cannot blame me for that!" "Our boss doesn't see it that way, now give back his money." "I spent all of his money on medicine and bandages to help his son. I have only a few coins left, you can have them and return to you boss." Not good enough," replied the thug, "He wants all his money back. Whether in coin, or in bone." "What do you mean?" "'Make him suffer like my son did,' were his words," smiled the thug, clearly enjoying this.

At this point, Roland could no longer sit and watch. He got up and began to walk care freely toward them. Seeing Jeremus's staff he picked it up and began to spin it about in his hand. The he rested it on his shoulder and said, "you know, it sounds like the doc here tried his utmost to help your boss. And this is how he repays him? Not exactly charitable, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," replied the thug, "so get lost." The threat seemed to work and Roland then backed off. The thug then returned to Jeremus, and brushed aside Roland. The he heard running footsteps behind him. Turning his head, he saw Roland running at him with the staff, shouting "Batter up!" Swinging Jeremus's staff, like a bat, he made contact with the thug's back. He must have hit a weak spot on the thug, because the thug fell back in pain and collapsed to the ground, and rolled around screaming bloody murder.

Seeing his friend fall to the ground, he then swung his fist at Roland. He dodged it, then he saw the present thug was not wearing shoes of any kind. He then swung the staff down hard on his foot, hitting the thug's the big toe. The thug shot his foot up in pain. Roland then lunged the staff into the thug's gut, the thug was forced backed a coupled of feet. Then he spun the staff and hit the thug on the side of the head, and he fell down to the ground.

The last thug then began to back up slowly, and turned to try and leave the inn. But when he turned around he ran into the rest of Roland's men, who decided to intervene after seeing their captain was fighting. One of then used his shielded and bashed the thug's forehead. The final thug came crashing down to the ground.

The first thug, now recovered from his hit to the back, decided to make a quick escape. But then Jeremus stepped in front of the thug. "Going somewhere?" He said just before punching him in the face, and knocked him out.

Roland smiled and walked over to Jeremus and said, "Nice one." Then he handed the staff to its owner, "I believe this is yours. Thanks for letting me use it."

"Not all." The doctor said, taking the staff and extending the other hand. "I'm Jeremus."

"Roland," said taking his hand. "These are my men," he said showing the others. "You're a mercenary?" Asked the doctor. "Of sorts," admitted Roland, "And you are a doctor?" "Yes, one of the best in Calradia." Roland was skeptical, but played along with his claim. "How did one of the best become pursued by these thugs?"

"It's a long story. I was hired by these men's employer, who resides here in Suno, to tend to his son, who was dying of a brain injury. I did the best that I could, but I could only do so much. I then had to leave the city for a day because of a family matter, and I gave specific instructions on how to tend to the boy. After I returned I found the boy in a worst state when I left him. The man had not even read my instructions. By that time, I could do nothing but ease the boys pain. The result was I lost my patient and most of my payment in treating the boy and later slowing the pain. He died naught a few days ago but now his father is trying to get even with me. I ran into one of his men a few days ago, and I have been running for my life ever since. I even had to trade my clothes with this pilgrim's disguise. I had hoped it would throw them off," the he looked down at the thugs, "clearly it was not effective as I hoped. Now it seems I will have to leave town until the man stops hunting me."

Roland then smiled, "you know, we were planning to leave town as well, and it would be nice to have a doctor to travel with. To make sure the men remain healthy. How about it?"

Jeremus sighed in thought, then he looked at Roland and smiled, "I be happy to."

"Great," Roland said shaking Jeremus's hand.

"I hope you know of another inn to stay at sir," said one of the men stepping forward, "I doubt is quarrel went unnoticed, word might spread that he is here sir. Making this place another battleground, sir." Jeremus nodded, "Agreed. It is not wise to stay here, and it is far too late to leave. The gates are probably closing now."

Roland rubbed his chin, thinking of a solution. Then an idea popped into his head. Grinning large he said, "I have a place." The he addressed his men, "Gather your belongings, we are heading to the castle." At first the men laughed, thinking it was a joke. Seeing he was serious, they quickly gathered their items and met Roland and Jeremus outside of the inn.

The men arrived at the castle as the sun fell behind the horizon. Sending a message to Henderson, Roland half expected them to not be allowed into the castle. After passing the gates, he saw Henderson standing outside the castle door, with Nox behind him. He had a large smile. "Roland, I half expected you to be returning sick of adventure. Instead you return with fifteen men in tow. Not bad for your first day as a mercenary, Roland." The men looked at Roland with surprise, partly because he was an acquaintance with Count Henderson; but also that he was merely a mercenary for a day.

"Haha, very funny, Henderson." Said Roland dismounting. Then he looked at Nox, he seemed disgruntled leaning on the castle door. "What's the matter Nox? Piano broke again?"

"First of all, you leave without a warning and go off to become a mercenary. Now the day you leave, you come back at some godly hour and ask us to take you and your "friends" in for the night. You are pushing your luck, boy."

"Gee, I didn't think you cared, Nox." Said Roland sarcastically.

"Piss off," Replied Nox going into the castle.

Henderson then invited the group in. He had prepared a small quick feast for them, enough to fill their bellies for the night. During the feast, Roland noticed Nox and Jeremus deep in conversation. Probably about medicine. Then Roland turned to Henderson and said, "Thanks for doing this Henderson." "It is nothing. But I am afraid you will have to do a favor for me." Roland then straightened up, Henderson had never asked for a favor. "I was hesitant from asking this of you before, since it was only you. But now you have a group of men, and a lot quicker then I expected. I guess that means you are ready."

Henderson then placed a letter on the table in front of Roland. "You know we have been at war with the Rhodoks for about three months now. It's been a pain of the country and especially to Suno. That is a letter for King Graveth. It's a proposition of peace. I have some leverage in the court, and I would enjoy seeing this war brought to an end quickly." "You want me to deliver this to King Graveth?" "Yes that is the just of it." "Why don't you just send a messenger?" "Because this letter contains some damaging things to me in the wrong hands. I need to have someone with guards and that I can trust. You qualify, thanks to your men." Then Henderson added, "It would be the least you could do for your time here."

Roland shook his head from side to side, toying with the idea. He then caved in and said, "Alright, I'll do it."

"Thanks," said Henderson. Roland took the letter and put in inside his shirt. As the feast closed, Roland saw Nox alone playing with his goblet of wine. Roland walked up to him, "Lonely?"

"Hardly," replied Nox not amused.

"I saw you talking to Jeremus. What did you think of him? Medically wise."

Nox then quickly glanced at Roland, "Medically? He's probably one of the best medieval surgeons I could think of. And I mean the word "medieval"." "So he's good?" Nox nodded, "Yes he is a good surgeon." Then he looked at the aftermath of the feast. "Your men however, are another story. Look at the mess they made. It's like a pack of wolves came through here."

Then Nox began to laugh, he found it funny. "Haha, that's what they should be called. The Wolves of Calradia. Haha." Nox then went off to his own room. Watching him go off, Roland then scoffed to himself, "The Wolves…What a dumb name…"

Roland then let himself and his men go to their beds, letting them get some rest before the morning. Roland then found his old room, ready and waiting for him like he never left. Plopping on the bed, exhausted, he then gave into the urges of sleep and fell into a dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Roland and the rest of the group gathered outside the castle again. All of the men had a smile on their faces, after all they did spend the night in a castle, not many mercenaries could say that. After yet again another farewell like the morning before, Roland and his fifteen men left the castle gates. Within an hour the men where on the far side of the Suno gates heading Southeast, towards the Kingdom of Rhodoks.


	8. The Messenger from Suno

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

A month after the Wolves left Uxkhal.

Over the past month, the Wolves had enough work to keep them busy for a while. After leaving Uxkhal, Roland then took the wolves directly to Praven where they dropped off the caravan. To their surprise, they were sought out by another caravan, this time their destination was Sargoth. Reasoning that they were heading that way anyway, Roland agreed to escort them. He then had them head for Sargoth, after a slight detour in Thir. Then they went to the Northern Coasts and began to patrol from the two "cheg" cities of Wercheg and Rivcheg.

While patrolling they kept their eyes open for any sea raiders camps or patrols, as well as any Tundra bandits straying north looking for prey. At the beginning of the patrol, their seemed to be an endless amount of ruffians. With the current war between the Nords and the Vaegirs, most of the lords were focused on the rival country rather then sea raiders or anything of similar nature. This left only the Wolves to clean up the coast. And so they did.

At first most of the sea raiders would gang up on the Wolves, surrounding them and often outnumbering them. However, the Wolves had advantages, they where the best equipped, they were more organized and the best trained. Unlike the Wolves, the sea raiders at best had what the poorest Wolf had, (which was still pretty good as far as armor in the game). In addition the sea raiders never trained, why would they need to? Most of their victims were hapless villagers, none of which probably never held a sword before. The wolves were a new and unwelcomed. Enemy.

Needless to say, after the Wolves arrived and make clear what their intentions were, the sea raiders tried to unite and scare the Wolves away. The plan was to unite all of the sea raiders along the coast, then have them all together attack the wolves and wipe them out. A sound plan…if executed. You see, what the sea raiders were not counting on, their own greed. Some of the raiders saw an opportunity. Realizing that most of their competition was going to be occupied with the plan, about a third of them, decided to forfeit themselves from the action and pillage the coast; now free from all other bandits. And they were not the only ones who bailed on the plan. The other haft of the remaining bandits, (coincidently it equals another third, who knew!), felt the remaining two thirds could handle it, and stayed at their camps.

The result was only about a third of the sea raiders that were suppose to be there, showed up. Not wanting to throw away this meeting of this many sea raiders, they decided to go head with the plan.

Despite the men not showing up the sea raiders still outnumbered the Wolves. However, as the fable goes: "start wrong…end wrong." And the sea raiders proved it's truthfulness.

They were able to surround the wolves as they where traveling between the hiding sea raiders and the sea. Forming a "C" around the Wolves, the sea raiders had completely surrounded them. Now, most any other groups of men would have been concerned, but not the Wolves. Roland then had the wolves spilt up into three groups, Roland and Alayen would take the main force, Ymira and Deshavi would lead the secondary group, and Bunduk and Matheld would lead the rear guard and the noncombatants.

Roland led his troops to charge directly in front of them. The secondary group followed Roland's group and protected their rear, as well as to protecting the rear guard, with the rear guard close behind.

When the first group penetrated the line of sea raiders, they opened a hole through the line, large enough for several men and their horses to ride through. Then Roland's plan came into action. Immediately the secondary group then formed a protective barrier between the sea raiders and the rear guard; then the rear guard made a mad dash for the opening, with the secondary group protecting their sides and the primary group at their front, they were well protected. As the first of the rear guard passed through the opening, the sea raiders on the other side of the encirclement had reach and were engaging the secondary group. Now all of the sea raiders had closes their circle and every one was fighting.

While the first group were holding their own, but the secondary group were taking a beating. They had a larger ratio of sea raiders to Wolves, compared to the primary. But right now the focus was on getting the rear guard out of there.

When the last of the rear guard had exited the encirclement, the able fighters then swung around the sea raiders and charged at their flank, causing a split in the sea raiders numbers. After the Wolves hit the sea raider's flank, the sea raiders began to lose numbers quickly, as well as their chance of winning. Most of the sea raiders saw that they were losing, and began to route.

After one half hour, the Wolves had finished off the rest of the sea raiders that were routing, the Wolves gathered together and tailed the battle, of about one hundred sea raiders, only twenty were able to flee away from the battle, the rest were either captured, (about fifteen of them), or killed.

However, the wolves also took casualties. Of the 78 Wolves, three were dead on the field: Verg, a sword brother, and Ferny and Bacra, two sword sisters. And seven of them were wounded. One sword sister, Sere, was wounded so severely, Jeremus needed to operated on her, so Roland had them make camp so he could work on her. By morning, Jeremus came out of the surgery tent, and shook his head slowly. That raised the death count to four.

The next day, Roland and the rest of the Wolves held a mass funeral for them. It was a sad event, for every one. Perry, the bard that was traveling along with the Wolves, took note of the service, "It was like they were united," he wrote in his journal, "by some unseen effect. I often asked them why they stay, and the Wolves merely reply with uncertainly. But, after a few days, I see the truth behind their name. Like a pack of wolves morn the death of their own as like a family, so do these Wolves. Do I dare say more so family? Perhaps… but there is some unexplainable connection, one I hope to understand." The rest of the day was spent in silence… even Roland kept quiet.

Despite their losses, the battle was a financial triumph for the wolves. The had collected about twenty sets of byrnie armor, several dozen throwing axes and javelins, as well as some Nordic shields. After tending their wounded so no one else would die, Roland then lead the wolves to Rivacheg to sell their captured supplies and hand over the prisoners. After they did that, the next month consisted of them hunting down the remaining sea raiders and their camps. With a good faction of the sea raiders dispersed, the remaining few weeks consisted of the Wolves dealing with smaller bands of sea raiders.

Now we get to where the wolves are now. Presently the Wolves were camping outside the village of Ruvar. Roland was able to strike a deal with the village elder. If the elder allowed the Wolves to stay just outside the village and provide them with some supplies, the Wolves would train some of their villagers to defend themselves and leave some weapons for them. A fair trade.

On this particular day, Roland awoke late in the morning. He had been draw into a game of Vert, (Calradian Chess as explained in the Uxkhal chapter), with Alayen. He had lost, and after the match declared it was not his game and went to his tent, where he struggled to fall asleep. Holding his arms up above his head, he stretched his back, then rubbed his shoulder. Getting off of his cot, he opened his flap and exited his tent.

Outside, Roland saw the camp was alive with activity. It has been three days since the Wolves took residents outside the village of Ruvar. Over the past couple of weeks the wolves had rode relentlessly to hunt down the sea raiders, they had become tired and worn out. After the first day of resting, most of the Wolves had recovered from their long hunt, and moral was improving. While most of the men were in camp, Roland sent men into patrols around the village to search for any more sea raiders that remained.

Breathing in the morning air, Roland caught the smell of lunch: a chicken broth with another reminder from home, garlic cheese bread. Walking to the source of the smell, he then found several large pots of broth and on top of the pots were grills of bread using the steam to cook it and melt the cheese, not the most effective way, but Katrin was able to make it work.

Stopping in front of one of the pots, Roland quickly glanced round and reached for one of the slices of bread. Before he could even touch the beard, his hand was slapped hard by a ladle, and he quickly retracted his and exclaiming "Ow!"

Looking up at the source, he saw Katrin holding a ladle. "Hands off, laddie. Meal will be ready soon enough. And there ain't no cut in for meals." Roland then rubbed the top of his hand, easing the sting away. "Come on Katrin. I haven't had breakfast yet. Can't the captain of his own mercenary troop bend the rules of his own company?" "Not when I'm the one that's gotta feed 'em," countered Katrin, pointing her ladle at Roland threateningly.

"Fine, fine… I'll wait," said Roland giving in. Then he saw one of the orphans, the one he named Joan, stirring one of the pots. "How are the two of them doing?" Asked Roland gesturing to Joan, "are they adapting to the traveling life?"

"Oh, they're great, fast learners and hard workers. More then I could ask for. They seem to enjoy it as well, very grateful little lads…" She was then cut of by a loud shouting coming from the edge of the camp, "Unlike someone I know." Roland nodded, understanding who she was lashing out at, one of their newest recruits: Lezalit.

He was a pain to deal with, and even worst to talk with him. Although he was not from Calradia, he still was bias towards every one who was not noble. He did not quarrel with Haydee, Alayen and Matheld, but everyone else he thought beneath him. He especially argued with Ymira and Bunduk, neither of who were of noble, and they had a large influence in the Wolves, which upset Lezalit greatly. Presently, Roland had put him in charge of training the villagers, just to give him something to do and keep him out of his way. He didn't want to deal with the headache he caused.

Not many Wolves liked him; all but Artimenner, which was a surprise to everyone. The two seemed to get along well, and after the first week, Lezalit was hated enough that Artimenner was one of the ones that talked to him. He was a good trainer, true to his word. Roland agreed with that, but what he and everyone else hated about him was the style he went about it. He was violent and vulgar while training men, as well as treated them less then dirt, especially if they were not noble.

"I better go see what he's up to," sighed Roland, not looking forward to talking with him.

"Be careful around him, the boy's got a mean streak in him." Advised Katrin.

"Right, I'll do that…" He said walking towards the training field.

On the way there, he saw a groups of riders come into the camp. It was one of the patrols he sent out. Walking over to them he asked, "Good hunting?"

The leader, removed their helmet, and his long brown hair came flowing down, it was Alayen. "None, sir. Just a merchant caravan, and some farmers heading home. None of then has seen any sea raiders." "I see…" "But there is news, sir!" "Oh?" "The Nords and Vaegirs have made peace, sir." "When?" "About three days ago sir." This was news to Roland. This meant most of the lords were returning home, including Ruvar. Roland knew it would look bad if the Wolves were caught camping outside it. It would appear to be that the wolves were forcing the village to supply them with food. "Ok, thanks. Lunch will be ready soon, you can try to sneak some early but Katrin will have your hide." "Thanks captain."

Leaving the patrol to tend to their horses and stomachs, Roland then turned to the practice area. The yard was busting with activity. Deshavi and Bunduk were teaching the recruits and villages how to use a bow and crossbow. Lezalit was training the villagers formations and how to march. And Matheld was training the villagers with weapons, primary axes.

Shaking his head, Roland sighed and walked towards Lezalit, who was presently yelling at a young boy having difficulties doing what he said. "Look here you little brat! You do what I damn tell you to do, and if you don't you'll get my whip. Understand?" The boy nodded nervously, and fell back in line.

"Lezalit, what are you doing? Your suppose to be training them, not getting them ready for a parade." "Marching is the first thing they would need to know when they join their lord's army," replied Lezalit sure of himself. "But they are not joining the army, they just want to be able to defend their village." "It is common knowledge that when lords recruit, they search for men how can march in line rather than tough men." "That's still not answering the question." Dropping the question, he then countered, "look, just train them to use weapons and how to fight, ok?" Lezalit sighed annoyed. "Fine," he said bitterly. Roland then let the trainer return to his work, and went back into the camp.

After having the men eat lunch, he sent out another patrol to keep and eye out for the lord of the village and any other sea raiders. He then walked into the village, and looked for the village elder. Seeing him sitting outside beside a table, Roland walked up to him. Seeing him approach the elder smiled, "Ah, Roland. What bring you to me?"

"News elder, both good and bad." "Oh? Well, sit and tell. I'll have some ale brought out." "Roland shook his head, "No, that's not necessary. I will not be long." "Very well what is it?" "I was just informed today, the Nords and the Vaegirs have made peace." The elder looked surprised, "Really? This is news…" "Because of this, the wolves will leave at first light tomorrow." Another surprised look came over the elder, "What? Why?" "With the lord returning, you will have protection again. There is no point for the Wolves to stay here any more." "But what about the sea raiders?" "I have sent a patrol out every day since we camped here. None of them have found a sea raider within miles of here. I believe you will be safe for a while. Plus we put a good dent in their numbers. I doubt they would be able to do much damage for now."

Sighing deeply, the elder nodded, "very well. We well be sad when you go."

"Thanks, I'm sorry we couldn't train your men more."

"You've done enough for us! More then enough, I would say."

"It was the least we could do," said Roland standing up. "If you excuse me, I have to tend to my men."

Then the elder got up, "wait." When he caught up with Roland he extended his hand, "if I don't see you again, best of luck. There aren't many men like you in Calradia, although I wish there were."

"If there were men more men like me, they'd put me out of a job," joked Roland taking his hand. After that farewell, Roland then returned to the camp. As the afternoon fell on the camp, the second patrol returned. Haydee, who was in charge of the patrol, reported no enemies nearby. By the end of the evening, the training had concluding. All of the villagers were returning home, all exhausted and covered in sweat; the sign that they were trained. Dinner was being served for the camp and the word was spreading through the camp that they were leaving. So the Wolves then began to pack their small items.

Roland was about to be drawn by Haydee into a game of Vert, but a guard came and informed him that there was a messenger from Suno wanting to see him. Roland was grateful for the distraction, and turned down the game. He then had the messenger brought to his tent. Haydee followed, upset that he turned down the game, (partially because he was one of the only person she could beat).

Inside his tent he met with the messenger. He wore the colors of Henderson, and had a worried look on his young face. "You wanted to see me?" Asked Roland. "Yes sir. I bring word from Suno." "How is Henderson?" "Not well, sir. He's a prisoner of the Khanate, sir." Roland shifted uneasily where he stood, this was a huge surprise to him, "What?! When?!" "A week ago, a few days before peace was declared. They refuse to release him, despite the peace. Instead they ransom him." "How much are they asking?" "More then the city can pay for, 125000 daners."

"That's beyond ransom," said Haydee. "It's plain robbery."

"Indeed," agreed the messenger, "King Harlaus says he cannot do anything for him. Thus, steward Nox sent me to find you and ask if your help."

Roland then laughed to himself, "Steward Nox." It merely was a cover of him, so no one was curious of his profession. Then Roland then closed his eyes in thought, "Where is he being held?" "Tulga, sir." Another set back. Tugla was the farthest city away from Swadia, not only that it was in the middle of the Khanate.

Roland then played the situation in his head: he could pay the ransom, but there was no guarantee that he would be set free after Roland paid them. If he did nothing, it was a bigger risk. Although he was not from this world and had better health then most of the other lords, Henderson could only hold out so long. Roland knew most people who are sent to a dungeon for ransom are malnourished. All it took was a mouth, and Henderson could have a weak body, or even die. Then there was a third option, a rescue attempt. It was the riskiest, but had the most rewards. There would be little exchange of money between the two sides and Henderson would be set free. But there was a huge risk that all could go wrong and he could wind up a prisoner. Roland then weighed those options and what was more likely to work.

Opening his eyes, Roland then addressed the messenger, "We'll see what we can do. Tell Nox to sit tight and not panic."

"Thank you sir," saluted the messenger. Then the guard escorted the messenger outside the tent and back to his horse. When they had left the tent, Roland quickly turned to Haydee, "Go and get Ymira, Jeremus and the others. They will want to hear this." With a nod, she was off into the camp. Leaving Roland alone in the tent to think.

When the companions reached their captain's tent, they found him looking over a map of Calradia. When all of them entered the tent, Roland briefed them on the new that was just given to him by the messenger, as well as the three options that Roland had. Leaning in close, he then told them his plan, "I do not care what may happen, I need to rescue him. He's one of the only lords I truly trust and he as been a good friend." Then he looked up and judged their reactions; most of them had worried and concerned looks on their face. "I know it will be tough, but I believe the Wolves can do it." He looked again; the look had not been removed. Then he added, "If any one of you thinks this is too risky, I would like to hear it know. I will have no problem with you backing out and meeting up with me later."

This offer came as a surprise to all of them. They looked at each other to see what they were planning. The Jeremus stepped forward, "I'll go with you sir." Then Ymira, "Me too." Slowly everyone said the same, and slowly the look of concern disappeared from their faces.

Roland looked up and smiled. He was beginning to see what Haydee meant outside Yaragar. "Thank you, all of you."

They all smiled, and Artimenner stepped forward to break the mood, "If you'll forgive me for asking sir, but what is the plan?"

"The plan," said Roland leaning closer to the map. "Right now it is merely getting to Tulga and go from there." "That's rather vague," stated Artimenner. "True, but there is nothing else we can really plan for until we get there." The he looked at Alayen, "How soon can the men be ready to leave in the morning?" "At first light, sir." "Then inform them we are moving out at first light. Our first stop will be Rivacheg. Anything else?" All shook their heads "no". "Good, well let's get ready then, we have a long ride ahead of us." With a unison nod, all of the companions left the tent. Leaving Roland to the map. He put his finger on Rivacheg, and flowed the likely route they were going to take. From Rivacheg, across a river to Khudan, past another river and through a mountain pass to the city of Ichamur then a direct line to Tugla.

Rerunning through the plan again in his head, the flap opened and Haydee entered the tent. She had a worried look on her face. "What's wrong?" She seemed to scared, "Where heading to Tugla, right?" "Yes." "That's awfully close to the Sultanate…" said Haydee. "Yes it is… is that going to be a problem?" "Not for me sir, but my Uncle might not think so."

It was not common knowledge within the Wolves that she was royalty in the Sultanate. Only Roland, Jeremus and Ymira knew of her past. Her father was the Sultan's brother. About three years ago, Haydee's father attempted to seize the Sultanate for himself. He had gathered about a hundred men and started a civil war in the Sarrdack Desert, out of his personal castle: Hattin Castle. The civil war lasted only a month, until the sultan himself led his army to destroy the castle. After a week of besieging the castle, most of the defenders had died on the walls, and the castle was all but ruins. All that remained of the castle guard about ten men, Haydee, her father and two elder brothers. They managed to escape through a hidden passage in the castle. Haydee's father then sent her west, away from the desert, while the Emir and his sons gathered another army.

Another week later, the Sultan had captured the Haydee's family, and had executed them for treason. Presently she was the only one left of her family. Posing a threat to her Uncle the Sultan.

"Do you think he will try anything?" Asked Roland. Haydee shook her head, "I do not know, Roland. I still believe that he thinks I am dead, but if I go back; he might discover the truth. And if that happens… I afraid what he might do, not only to me, but to the Wolves."

Roland then walked over to her, "Hey, look at me." She then turned her head so her one opening eye looked at his, "Nothing going to happen to you, or this company. I won't let it happen. I'd rather take on the entire Sultante then let anything happen to my men, including you."

"Thank you, Roland." She said with a weak smile on her face.

"I doubt we will have through the desert," said Roland cheering her up. "Look." He said walking over the map, "There are four different paths we could take to leave the Steppe." Then he put his finger on the city, then he moved it up to the Sungetche pass and the Sungetche Castle. "More then likely we will be arrive though this pass, and I doubt we will be heading back that way after possibly doing something they are would not be happy with us. So that's out. And I doubt we could part Narra, too many castles and places to be spotted. That leaves the desert, and here, the Nelag pass. Currently it is in the hands of the Vaegirs, and we can get by them with out any difficultly."

"But like you said, it is hard to know until we get there."

"Very true, but presently that is our exit strategy. So don't worry, no plans for to enter the desert yet."

"Thank you," she said again, "I feel less nervous now." She turned and stopped just before the flap and the tent and turned around, "If it was any one of us, instead of your friend, would you do the same?"

"For you? In a heartbeat, and everyone else as well… except Artimenner…I'd needed to be rewarded for him." Both of them laughed. "Don't tell him I said that."

"My lips are sealed," and she turned and left the tent. Looking outside after her, Roland saw the dark of night was upon them. He had lost track of time, and the pains of sleep hit him. He put the map away and fell on his cot and fell asleep instantly. He had a large task before him and the Wolves. They will need all the rest they could muster tonight.

-End Notes-

Next Chapter

Next Chapter will probably be another origin story of the companions, (Ymira if anyone wants a hint), before the continuation of the next story. I hope this doesn't upset anyone.

Castle Hattin

Castle Hattin is not a place in Calradia, (nor is it now, it was completely destroyed in the civil war… I will tell all later), so don't bother trying to find it. The name was based off the Horns of Hattin, a major battle in the Second Crusade. (Thank you Age of Empires!)


	9. Ymira: The Jilting Daughter

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Origin Story.

Ymira: The Jilting Daughter.

* * *

Roland and his group of mercenaries made their way into the city of Veluca. In the previous day they had stopped by Uxkhal and were greeted by the Count Denlinard. The count was very welcoming, and very friendly to Roland. He later mentioned that Henderson had sent word that he was coming, and the count was a very close friend to the Lord of Suno. He also had a quest for Roland, much like Henderson's it was to deliver a letter to Lord Tarchias.

When Roland asked out the contents, Delinard was more open to disclosing the contents of it. It was a dowry offering to Lord Tarchias for his son, Lord Frachin, and Count Delinard's daughter Lady Elina. They had been discussing the engagement since before the war, and he felt he needed to show his interest. Luckily, the Lord was said to be around Yalen, were presently their was a feast going on and the King and most of his lords were going to present there.

Agreeing to take the letter, he then took his men south. After a day of traveling, they ran into a group of mountain bandits, who had mistaken the party for a merchant caravan. After confronting Roland, the bandits realized their mistake. Not wanting to turn and run, they began to threaten the party. Not intimidated, Roland drew his sword and connected it against the bandit's throat. The others followed in suit and began to storm the bandits. Within five minutes, the remaining bandits had surrendered. Looking at the prisoners, Roland shook hid head, and let them go. He later said, "I don't know the first thing about taking prisoners," he explained to his men.

Fortunately, no one was injured, so they did not need Jeremus's skills. The loot they received was very low-grade items: a couple of caps and a few hats. Not a lot of money was going to come out of it, but it was a profit.

Heading into the city, Roland then split off from his men and began to sell the items he had just collected from the mountains bandits. It was not much, enough to pay for the meal and logging to night. Taking the coins, he then headed to the inn were the rest of his men were staying.

Staying in the town for the rest of the day, dusk began to set on the city, and the inn that Roland and his men were staying at. As the last of the sun's face began to sink on the other side of the Rhodokian Mountains, a young woman walked into the inn that Roland and his men were at. It was not uncommon to see a woman enter an inn, but it was rare to see one so young, so clean and in a white silk dress, her wedding dress to be precise, to enter the inn at such a late hour.

As she entered into the inn, all eyes shifted to her. Roland and Jeremus had to look up from Jeremus's newly bought Vert board, and stopped teaching him how to play. She had long blonde hair, light blue eyes; she could not have been any older then sixteen. Her dress was a medieval white wedding dress that was covered in mud, dirt, grass stains, thistles, (the worst...), and all other debris from the elements. Walking up to the bar, she requested a pint of water. The barkeep was very confused, but did it anyway.

Jeremus then looked over to Roland and said, "What do you make of that?" Roland shrugged, "I don't know… what should I make of it?" "She appears to have been jilted." "What?" "She was jilted, she was left at her wedding with out the groom." Explained Jeremus. "I see…" agreed Roland, looking back over to her. In the corner of his eye he saw some men jeering at each other. He knew what they where planning… "I should do something…" he said in a low voice to Jeremus. "Like what?" asked the surgeon, then he joked, "recruit her?" "If she's interested," said Roland coolly. Then he got up and left Jeremus alone at his table.

Walking up beside the girl, he said, "Hello." She turned round and smiled, "Hello to you too, good sir." Roland was taken aback from the fresh courteously that she showed. "You know," Roland pointed out, "It's not safe for a well mannered lady in her wedding gown to be wandering around in an Inn without any means of protection."

She looked at him awe struck, "I did not think of that! Oh dear, if feel I have caused a scene."

"What exactly is the story behind the dress? My friend over their says your were "jilted"?"

"More like I did the jilting…" she said embarrassed. Roland gave her a confused look, she then began to explain, "My name is Ymira, good sir. I was the daughter of a prominent merchant in the neighboring city of Jelkala. I was his loyal and obedient daughter, until he wanted me to marry an elder man well past the age of thirty!" Roland raised an eye brow, forgetting that thirty was "old" for this time. "All for a business proposition! I told him I will not, and he forbade me from leaving the house and looked me in my room. He made me put on this dress and I would be married presently if I had not picked the lock to the door. I snuck out and ran from through the gates of the city and have not looked back since. I am my own person, and I am capable of taking care of myself!"

"What are you planning to do then with yourself?"

"Well, I had hears ancient stories of how women become warriors and earn respect of the Realm. Although they are accent stories, and I do not believe that those are plausible, seeing Calradia is my present goal. I would be content with a traveling group that wanders, since I believe my father will no doubt search for me. I was thinking of joining some gypsies or even a group of mercenaries." Roland saw an opportunity, he in his own way felt responsible for the girl's safety. It would not be right if he left her behind in this inn, and no doubt be taken advantage of. She was naïve, to say the least.

"You know…" started Roland, "I technically started a mercenary troop… if you'd be interested… we could use another person. If you'd want to…"

The young girl smiled wildly, "I'd be happy to help you sir! You seem to be trustworthy, and helpful. I'd be honored to joined you and your…?" "We don't exactly have a name for our troop yet. But my name is Roland," he said extending his hand toward her. "Ymira," she said taking his hand firmly.

"Very good… if you'd like to join us… our surgeon: Jeremus." He said gesturing toward him. "Ma'am," Jeremus said. Doing a quick curtsy, she saw the Vert board on the table, "Are you hoping for a game?" "If you play…" said Jeremus, challenging her. Taking the seat opposite of him, Ymira then began to play with the surgeon. The rest of the night consisted of the game between those two, and Roland watched trying to figure out the rules on his own. Not receiving any explanation from the two players, lost in their own train of though.

Roland's troop now had a new member. Ymira, a young merchant girl who proved herself as a keen merchant, and later she became a fierce fighter as a Wolf.

* * *

Present day.

Roland stood outside the camp of the Wolves. They had made camp outside the Sungetche pass and it's castle. After a night and two days of force-marching Roland let the Wolves have a night of rest before tackling the pass in the morning. He stood outside the light of the camp, and looked at the stars. He was thinking about Henderson. If he was all right, if he was hurt in anyway and if he was even alive. Shaking his head to get the thoughts away from him, he then turned into the camp to go to bed. Passing by a fire, he saw Ymira with her back towards him. She looked a lot different when he fist recruited her about three years ago. She had cut her hair shorter then it was and declared she loved it. Her naivety had dimmed and she became a wiser about life in general.

She had something in her hands, and she was staring at it inventively. It was a white silk dress, he then remembered it as her wedding dress, what she wore the first time he saw her.

"Ymira…?" Roland said softly.

She turned at saw Roland behind her. "Oh, captain." She said surprised. "I didn't hear you."

"Isn't that your wedding dress?" Asked Roland gesturing toward the dress in her hand.

She looked at it and smiled weakly, "yes it is sir."

"Why do you still have it?"

"I am not sure myself sir." The young woman then gave a deep sigh. "Truth be told, I never expected to last this long outside of my father's care. I half expected to have become lonely without the care of my father… and have gone back because I missed my former life. So I held on to it, thinking I might need it again."

"What about now?" Asked Roland.

Ymira shook her head, "I'm no longer sure, sir. I no longer feel homesick. That's why I have it here; I was deciding what to do with it. Even with my father sending me that letter a week ago…"

"What?!" asked Roland.

"I burned it. I did not want to read it." "So you have no idea what he said?" "None, sir. Should it matter?"

Roland sighed, "No it shouldn't. Are you a wolf?" She nodded "yes". "Then why the debate? It's settled, done. Ok?"

She the looked down at the dress and smiled, "Your right sir. I shouldn't even have this." She got up and dropped the dress in the fire in front of the two of them. "Thank you for reminding me sir. I am a Wolf."

"Good," said Roland, "now, Wolf, get some rest. We move out in the morning. Ok?"

"Yes, sir." She then turned and went in the way of her tent. Roland watched her leave and walked over to the fire and watched the last of the silk threads go up in flames. Seeing nothing but a few decorations that came from the dress left in the fire, Roland then followed suit, and went to bed.

* * *

-End Notes-

The second half I just decided to add for the purpose of showing Ymira's intentions, and what she decided. It was not as well as I would like but with classes coming back up I find it easier to write then go back and rewrite.

Cheers

Indogma


	10. The Rescue

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Tulga: The Plan and Rescue.

* * *

Roland lay on the ground about a mile away from the city of Tulga. It was far enough away for him not to be seen by the guards on the castle walls, but he could see them well enough with his pair of binoculars. Looking through them he saw the walls of the city quite well.

The Khanate were not capable wall builders, in fact the cities they had constructed were less then a century old, and their walls were already crumbing. Roland saw a huge portion of the northeastern wall had collapsed in the recent war with Swadia. Now there was a large mound of clay-stone under the hole in the wall, reaching about a quarter of the height of the walls around it. On the mounds were workers, picking up the bricks and pieces of the wall, in order to help the repair of the wall to begin.

Roland then concluded he had seen enough and crawled back to his horse, mounted up, and rode to where the rest of the Wolves had made camp. Less then a mile away, Roland reached the camp, and marched into the tent where the rest of the "leaders" of the Wolves were waiting. Walking to a table set up in the tent, he then begun to draw what he saw. Through half of the day he had been scouting around the city, looking for any information he had seen upon the city. Although he and the Wolves had been there several times, he now couldn't just enter without drawing suspicion.

After finishing the map, he then begun explaining what he saw, "Ok. From what I could tell, the town is only guarded by the city guard. No one else is there, which helps our case. Now," Roland said leaning in on the map, "there are three ways to exit, Tulga." "Three sir?" Asked Artimenner. "Yes three, there are the two gates, the Northwestern gate and the Southeastern gate. Both are very well guarded, getting them is not the problem, it's getting out… but that is were the third way is a more suitable option. Presently, a large part of the northeastern wall has collapsed, and currently under repairs. We will use this as our escape route." Then he looked at Jeremus, "do you know if we have any former masons in the camp?" "I think we do sir, Dervus and Donne were masons once sir." "Good, now here is the plan: We will split up into several groups. I with Klethi and Deshavi will enter the city and break Henderson out, tonight. Meanwhile, Jeremus, Alayen and the two other masons, as well as several wolves will pose as a group of masons and their families sent by one of the Noyans, I leave whom to you. Rest of the Wolves will wait here and be ready to move on a moment's notice. Questions?"

Ymira stepped forward, "beg pardon sir. But is it wise for three of you to go in? Should there be more?"

"If we all enter the city, it might draw suspicion. And presently, we need all the surprise we can get. Anything else?" No one stepped forward, "Ok, let move out then. Klethi, Deshavi. You come in after me, wait an hour after I enter the city, and I will meet you outside the tavern. And we will go from there." The he grabbed a pilgrim's rode, and donned it over his suit of armor. "And don't forget your disguises."

* * *

In front of the city of Tulga's southeastern gate, two riders of the Khanate were standing guard. They would have done anything to get out of it, and to be riding out with the Sanjar. Instead they were stuck with guard duty, outside the gate. The funny thing was is that they were selected because they not "competent" enough to ride with the Sanjar.

In their boredom, one turned to each other and said, "Hey, Butshar. Why are we here?" The other turned, annoyed, and retorted: "To guard the gate, Yuri, ya brainless flop!" "I know that, but whys we here ant not out there with the Sanjar?" "'Cause somebodys got to watch the gate for intruders! Now, shut your gop." Then the two returned to guard duty. A half hour later, they saw a cloaked figure approach the gate at a steady walk. When the figure came to the gate one of the guards shouted, "Halt, how goes their?"

"Just a poor wanderer, good sir. Seeking refuge for the night, that is… if there is any to be had here…?"

"Well you've come to the right place… the Sanjar just left yesterday and most of the inns are empty." Said Yuri. "Shut it!" Shouted the other. "Were ya from?" "Narra, I am heading north to the Nords." "Why be that?" Because I cannot work anywhere down here." Butshar then walked up and examined the man, then he stepped back and said, "Go on through. But I have my eye on you." And with that the cloaked man entered the city.

About three hours later, a group of about thirty figures loomed in the distance. They approached the same gate as the figure. "Halt, who goes there?" One of the group stepped forward, "please zer. We are are masons sent by the Sanjar to repair the wall." "I was not aware he sent for anyone." "Oh, he did zer. He sent many riders, but no one answered. We, zer, did not answer his call but heard about it and came to here hoping for work. What now with peace all around us…"

"The Rhodoks and the Sultanate are still at war," said Yuri. "True sir," repied the man, "but it is not safe to travel to there since we could be attacked while still work on the wall." "Well, we might not be at peace much longer as well…" said Yuri.

"Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you!" said Butshar furious. The he looked at the group, amongst them were other men and women. "Where's ya children?" "In Halmar, we were afraid that bandit's might attack us and we put them there for safety." Butshar saw no flaw in the story, "fine go on in."

"Please, zer. Could we by chance camp just outside the wall beside the collapse part." The man explained: "it would allow us to get to work on the wall quicker, and be that much closer our work. Besides sir, we cannot afford the inn at all."

"Fine," said the guard annoyed. "Tell them that "It's Sanjar's horse's will," the guards outside the wall will know what it means."

"Thank you, zer." And then the man returned to the men and pointed them in the direction they were to go.

As they rounded the corner, one whispered to the "leader" man. "I cannot believe you pulled that off, Jeremus."

The man then smiled, "first rule of lying, always base it on one truth." "What was the truth?" "Hell if I know!" Both laughed, "learn anything?" "Nothing important," replied Jeremus, "but one of them hinted that the Khanate might be heading back into war. To where I do not know." "All the better for us, keeps the Sanjar and his men busy." "I suppose…" said Jeremus still not convinced.

As the "masons" rounded the corner, the two guards looked at each other. "Lotta people commin' through here." "What ya going on about?" "I mean, first the one man, then the two other cloaked women, now these masons. Seems pretty busy around here." "Ah, shut-up!"

When the "masons" arrived at the hole in the wall, they assessed the situation. Roland was right, there was a huge hole in the wall. Clay broken bricks surrounded the hole in the wall, creating a mound of bricks. On each side of the outside wall, there were two large wooden scaffolds, built to chip off the broken bricks on the wall.

"Better tell Roland about this…" said Jeremus to one of the men, who nodded and went up the mound, and into the city. The guards did nothing, because they had permission to be there. And Jeremus gave the excuse that they needed supplies, so they let the man pass.

* * *

As night befell on the city, the streets grew deserted and only the occasional guard post were the sources of light. Deep inside the city, a lone soldier guarded a think heavy door, belonging to the city's dungeons. It was the only way into the city's prison, which presently had several occupants.

The lone guard outside the door, was fighting against his heavy eyes. Although he had slept all day, it did little to fend of the exhaustion cause from darkness and boredom. He would love any from of distraction, if not to alleviate the boredom, then to keep his energy up for the rest of the night.

In the distance, their came footsteps. The guard then looked, it was a cloaked lady walking slowing toward him. "Excuse me, sir. But could you help me…" Said the figure. "What?" said the guard. "I'm afraid to walk to the inn tonight. I hear robbers are thick tonight…could you please escort me?" "Look ma'am, I have to guard the door, here I'm afraid leave my post." "Are you sure?" "Yes," and then he turned his back to here and looked down thee street to another figure approach. He was about to call out to him, but before he could open his mouth, there was a searing pain in the back of his head. Then everything went dark, and he fell to the ground.

The figure up the street came running up to the cloaked woman, reached down and shook the guard and said, "Took you long enough, Deshavi. I was wondering when you were going to act. He almost saw me."

"It's done, so don't complain captain." Said Deshavi, lowering her hood and removing her cloak. It revealed that she was wearing her armor, a light mail suit of armor with a surcoat with a wolf on it.

"Fair enough," said Roland, following suit. Both of them had wooden practice swords, just as Roland ordered. He didn't want to cause a stir by killing any of the guards. Besides I might be a bigger slap to the face to the Khanate if Roland could escape the city without killing a guard. "Klethi should be finishing up with the gates now, let's hurry up and get Henderson out of here and meet up at the hole." Deshavi nodded and took the keys from the knocked out guard.

* * *

Inside the dungeon, a lone prisoner sat chained to the wall with wrist irons. Count Henderson of Suno was the only prisoner of the city presently. He then lifted his hands and stared at the chains that bound him. "Stupid," he whispered to himself. He was recalling the event that led him to be captured. He was riding separate from his men, a few days ago, catching the morning sun. When he had decided to turn back he realized he had gotten lost, and went off in one random direction hoping it was the way he came. To his dismay, it led him directly to a Khanate scouting party. Within a minute he was surrounded, and outmatched. He had to surrender, embarrassingly. "Stupid," he said again.

The one thing he could take solace in was the fact that all of his men were all right. They were probably on their way home to Suno, since there was no longer any war. Swadia was at peace with everyone right now, so they could return home.

Hearing the door open, Henderson then looked up at the passageway down to the dungeon. He was used to drunken sergeants coming down into the dungeon and taunting him. The one rule that the men were given was: he was not to be touched. And he wasn't.

As the footsteps, got closer Henderson noticed that they consisted of two pairs and footsteps accompanied by the sounds of armor. _Two of them_?, he thought suspiciously. Then the figures came out of the corridor, looking at them his eyes adjusted to the light. "Roland!" He exclaimed, recognizing his friend. "You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"Good to see you too," he said walking over to Henderson and unshackling him from the wall.

"You're the last one I expected to see, at least this quick!" "Nox sent a messenger," explained Roland. "Ahh," said Henderson knowing why Nox did it. "He does miss me, I bet!" Both men laughed. "Deshavi," said Henderson recognizing the second figure, "you're here as well?"

"Yes, Count Henderson," she replied with a smile. Roland had loaned her to Henderson for a week several times now. She was probably the best archer in Caldaria, and Henderson had her train some of his men.

"So Roland, what's the plan?" Asked Henderson anxious to leave. "Right now it's getting to the hole in the wall and getting the hell of this city," replied Roland. "I like it," said Henderson. Then the three turned and made there way through the doorway into the street.

* * *

In the night, the "masons" were hard at work. They had decided to make some "modifications" to the scaffolds. "Are we almost ready, yet?" Barked Alayen in a soft voice. "Almost sir, a few more minutes." Alayen then began to pace, he caught a glance at the two knocked out guards that were guarding the hole. They needed to be silence for this plan to work. "Hurry up, sir…" Alayen said under his breath. "Calm yourself, lad." Alayen turned and saw the surgeon behind him. "Roland will get here, just be patient."

Then there came the sound of a bell from the city, and both men turned and looked into the city. It was the alarm bell. "Looks like we have been found out," said Jeremus. The he looked at Alayen, "I'll have the men mount up, as soon as they are done have them mount up as well! We cannot afford to waste time!" And with that he ran to his horse and mounted up. Then he turned and said, "Hurry up, Roland."

* * *

In the city, Henderson, Roland and Deshavi were running as fast as their legs could take them. Running through each narrow alley way their pace increased when they heard the alarm bell in the distance. "I guess it was wishful thinking hoping they would not have noticed us escaping," said Henderson jokingly. "Yeah…" agreed Roland.

"Klethi should be meeting us up head here," said Deshavi. "Good," said Roland. "If she managed to sabotage the gates in time." "Part of the plan?" asked Henderson. "I'll elaborate later," said Roland.

As the three exited the alley, they saw the wall that had the hole. In front of the hole was a woman with red hair, Klethi. When she saw them she began to motion them through the hole, "C'mon, C'mon!" she yelled. As the three scaled down the far side of the rubble, she got in line and made her the way down herself. "Riders commin' sir! I can hear them!" Roland nodded and then turned to see there "welcome party."

On the other side were the "masons" with four free hours waiting for them. "All set Jeremus?" asked Roland hopping on the horse. "Yes, sir." He then cupped his hand and shouted, "Now lads!" and at once several horses were spurred and ropes that were tied to the scaffolding were revealed. In seconds the scaffolding began to lean on each other and crumble in front of the hole in the wall, creating an effective barrier. "Very good men!" Said Roland cheering his men. "That should keep them locked in the city for a good hour!" Then he spurred his horse forward, "let's go!"

As the Wolves and Henderson rode away from the city, Roland somehow managed to hear the angry cries of the riders of the city guard. No doubt upset that an escape had been made and they could do little about it.

Roland smiled to himself, the hard part of the mission was done. Know it was an easy escape from the Khanate…or so he hoped.

* * *

-End Notes-

Beginning

I have to admit that I did not like how this chapter started. I wanted to get a little more info in, but I could think of a way of doing it. So I plugged away and got what is written. Let me know what you think.

Henderson.

Meeting Henderson again, and we will probably be in the group for awhile yet.

Cheers,

Indogma


	11. Deshavi: The Bandit's Bride

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Deshavi: The Bandit's Bride

* * *

Roland and the rest of his men were marching along the northern plains, Heading north, playing carrier again for King Graveth, to one of the Kingdom of the Nords's lord, Jarl Gundur. It cold dreary and damp, with a think fog that blanked everything in grey, reducing visibility down to a mile. Roland felt the bitter cold when his chain mail brushed against his neck; it lasted only for a moment. Roland then felt the warmth return to his neck, thanks to his wool undershirt. Never had he been never more thankful for that scratchy shirt then now. Ymira had suggested he by one before heading north to the Nords. And Roland eventual gave in and bought one. "I'll have to thank her later," he thought.

As they passed through the village of Ryibelet, Roland noticed a lone figure on the plains, just on the edge of the fog. From what he could tell, the figure was staggering and having trouble staying on its feet. Stopping the troop he then waited for Jeremus and Ymira to ride up, (both now had a horse). They watched the figure struggle to walk, Roland looked and them and said, "I think we should help him…"

"It could be a trap," Observed Jeremus.

"Jeremus, Ymira," ordered Roland, "Stay up here and keep an eye on me… if it's a trap do what you can to keep me out of trouble," then he looked at his men, "you four of you follow me." The he spurred his horse forward followed by four other men.

Ymira then looked at Jeremus and said, "Is that wise?" "It doesn't matter to him," replied Jeremus smiling.

As he approached the figure, he saw it stumble and fall to the ground. It struggled to get back up, and gave up and fell to the ground again. When Roland and the others had reached it, the figure had stopped moving. And was face down in the wet grass. Roland dismounted from his horse and approached the figure. To his surprise, he found it to be lighter then expected. He discovered the figure was a young woman, no more then twenty years old. She had dark skin and was covered for head to toe with cuts and bruises. In his arms, he noticed her clothing was a tunic made out of thin rags, she was trembling from being wet from the rain and her soaked clothes. One her face she had a fresh cut, just above her right eyebrow, and it continued to bleed. "Get Jeremus!" He said to one of his men.

* * *

The young woman regained her mind in the presence of warmth. She thought it to be a dream, or the embrace of death. She pulled her arms closer to her body, and felt a think fabric over her body, creating a warm nestling feeling to her. When she brought her arms to her chest, she felt something foreign. Expecting her tunic of rags; she then felt the texture of wool instead. Snapping her eyes open, she then saw the welcoming yet alarming sight of a fire. Being reminded a horrible memory, she quickly got up and looked around her surroundings. She was in a foreign place.

She was in a camp at night surrounded by men in armor and armed. Fearing for her life she then got up and grabbed the closest thing to a weapon she could see. She saw a small butcher's cleaver and readied it to be used. When she stood up, all of the men looked at her, concerned she a wild fury in her eyes. "Oh, your up." Someone said behind her. She spun around and saw Roland behind her with a plate of cheese and meat, with a flagon of liquid. "I have some food if you'd like…" he said stepping forward. He took one step and the girl made a threatening gesture towards him. Roland then retreated.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw some of his men moves slowly toward her, hoping to take her unaware of them, he motioned them to back off, and they did. Then he smiled calmly, placed the flagon on the plate and reached at the leather that held his sword and it's sheath on his belt. "I do not want to hurt you… and I will disarm if you will… does that seem fair?" The girl looked confused by his offer, and became more confused when she saw Roland undo his sword and throw it off to the side. Slowly, because of that gesture, she then lowered hers. "Thank you," he said. Then he placed the food in between them, and backed a way a little, sitting about two feet away from the plate.

The girl then walked up to the plate and began to examine the contents. And first she was distrusting of the food, thinking it was poisoned, then as the food passed through her mouth her rate of intake increased and she began to shove the food into her mouth. The she took the flagon and drank the contents; it was a cold and bitter liquid but it tasted sweeter then any honey to her. We she was finished she looked at the man who gave her the food. He was smiling.

"Thank you…" she said. "Oh, it was not a problem," he said. "My name is Roland, what is yours?" The girl looked at him, unsure what his motives were. She could not believe that he did this out of the bottom of his heart, yet he did seem sincere. "Deshavi…" she said.

"Well, Deshavi…" begun Roland, "You had us worried. For a second we thought you might have died on us, what being exposed to the cold like you were in those rages, and that wound to your head didn't help either." Deshavi then touched her head and felt a bandage go around her entire forehead and around the back of her head. It was the first time she noticed it. The she remembered the cold, and looked down as to why she was not cold. She was wearing a dress, it was light green with a brown belt.

Roland saw that she noticed the dress, "Ah that's one of Ymira's dresses. She agreed to loan her one of hers. She also had to get you out of those rags, as you were…" then he became embarrassed, "naked underneath those rags."

"Ymira? Who is that? Your wife?" Roland chuckled, "Ahaha, nonono. I guess you could say, she is one of us." "Us?" "Well, we are group of mercenaries. We travel around and do odd jobs here and there." Do you hunt bandit's?" Deshavi asked with aggression. "Why yes, I guess we can, why?" Deshavi then stood up and declared, "Then Roland, I have a job for you and your men!"

Later the next morning, Roland and the rest of the men were following Deshavi through a think forest of trees. As Deshavi explained the night before:

* * *

She was forced to marry a drunkard of a man at a young age in order to provide her family with a little coin. The forced marriage was unhappy and miserable for Deshavi, then bandits came a raided the little farm that he owned and burnt it to the ground, taking everything he own, including his life. They saw some use of her, and kept her as their plaything; using her and her body for their own desires. She was in that state for about half a year until one of the bandits fell in love with her. Taking pity on her he then taught her how to shoot a bow and use a pole to defend herself, and soon she proofed herself better then many of the men in the camp. When the chief died in a raid, Deshavi helped the man who trained her to become the bandit chief. When he became the chief, he took her as his wife upseting all of the other bandits.

Less then a week ago, they decided to act and mutiny against him and her. They took her first and tied her up, expecting her to revert back to her role after they were finished with their chief. Then they took him, dragged him in front of her and killed him. His last words were, "Don't cry for me, Deshavi…" When he was dead, they tied her up and placed her aside. She was left alone until the bandit chief decided he wanted to use her. But when he tired to subdue her, she was able to knock him out with a small rock she had on her person. Before he was rendered unconscious, he got a swing in, and cut Deshavi about the eye, which is where she got the wound.

After handling the chief, she then snuck out of the came and ran from them until she collapsed, which is when Roland found her. Now she had "hired" Roland and his men to help her take her revenge on the bandits. Roland was unsure how she expected to pay them, but he didn't mind working for free, as long as he got ride of the bandits.

Sighing deeply, Roland looked at Deshavi as they walked through the think brush. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead; she was determined to take her revenge. She presently had taken off Ymira's dress and was wearing one of the men's extra padded leather. It was a scene the night before, after hiring Roland she preceded to take off the dress inform of Roland and the rest of the men declaring: "I cannot wear this anymore! I hate dresses!" Roland had to stop her, and had Ymira come over to help her find something she would wear. She eventually settled with on of the crossbow men's leather armor. Apparently while in the company of the bandits, she had become accustomed to armor, and now wouldn't wear anything but that. She also requested a sword and a bow with arrows, which they obliged her with.

Now she was leading them trough the forest. Roland was surprised how well she could see in the forest and how well she could track. He assumed she also learned those skills from the bandits.

As they got to the outskirts of camp, Roland and the others surround the camp and prepared to attack. The camp was dead quiet, but Roland could tell of them were there, they all slept outside by a bonfire, except for the chief who head a tent to himself.

He then looked at Deshavi, who had her bow out and was ready, and said, "Are you sure you want to help?" "I have a score to settle with these men," she replied, "I wouldn't miss this fight for all the gold in the land." "Fair enough," said Roland. He then motioned his men to move forward. Slowly he and his men moved up toward the clearing were the camp was, weapons drawn and from tree to tree. When the troop got to the edge of the tree line. He then had the archers ready themselves. When they were ready, Roland and a few men started throwing rocks at the bandits still asleep. It took several tries for one of the rocks to hit a bandit hard enough to stir him from his slumber. When he got up he say Roland standing beside a tree, and shouted, "Oi, wake up blokes! We got a straggler here!" With all the men waking up, they saw Roland and sneered. When they all were up, they began to slowly advanced toward him.

"Now!" Shouted Roland, and Deshavi and the crossbow men appeared from there covered and fired a volley into the cluster of bandits. After the volley, the rest of Roland's men jumped out of the cover of the trees and charged at the diminished bandits.

While the trap had been sprung, Roland then took off in the direction of the chief's tent. Sword ready, he entered the tent and saw the chief, undisturbed from the fighting, asleep on a cot. Looking around he saw a table on the other side of the tent. On the top of it, was a complete heavy set of plate armor, walking over to it, Roland then examined it more closely.

The armor was of fine grade steel, and had little wear and rust on it, showing it was brand new. "Who'd he have to kill to get this?" He thought. Grabbing the gauntlets of the suit, he then put them on and tried them out. They fit perfectly on his hands, like it was made for him.

From behind him, came a heavy breathing followed by a deep threatening, "Those are mine!" Roland swung around and saw the bandit chief with his ax already to strike, not having any time to block it, Roland quickly dodged it, and the bandit swung his ax are on the table, sinking deep into the plate armor. "My armor!" he shouted furiously. He then turned and said to Roland, ""Yer dead!" and began to swing savagely at Roland.

Roland then ran out to the tent, and the chief was right behind him. Roland was doing his utmost to stop the swings and blocked what he could, and whatever he couldn't block, he dodged, until he tripped and fell on the ground. And it looked like the chief was going to win.

Then an arrow came flying from nowhere, and struck the bandit chief in the upper right arm, which caused him to drop the ax. Another arrow flew and stuck the bandit's right leg, crying in pain, the bandit fell on his knees. Looking for the source of the arrows, he saw it was Deshavi. When the chief saw her, he began to glow with rage, "You…" he said fighting back the pain.

"Hello," she said bitterly. Then she lowered her bow and drew her sword, "For Calbert!" In one swift movement… she had cut off the bandit leader's head, and the body now fell to the ground.

Roland then got up and said, "A bit much, don't you think?" Deshavi then looked at Roland, "That was merciful compared to what he deserved." Roland shook his head, but dropped the subject.

"Sir!" Roland turned and it was one of the men, "all bandits have been dispatched, sir!" "Very good, gather what loot you can and let's return to the horses."

After taking what they could from the camp, Roland was able to collect 600 daners, plus some clubs and cheap axes that he could sell. They also discovered, a stock of ale and flax that the bandit's raided from merchants heading north into the Nords. "We can sell the ale and flax at a very good price in Thir." Commented Ymira. Unfortunately the plate armor was beyond salvageable, after the bandit hit it with his ax. So in the end all Roland got were the gauntlets of the set.

When the men had made it to the plains and out of the forest, Deshavi turned and looked at Roland. She was smiling, "thank you…" she said. It was the first time, he had seen her smile; it was pretty. "It was my pleasure," said Roland. "So what will you do with yourself?" Asked Roland.

Deshavi looked at Roland an said, "well I did hire you didn't I, and I have yet to pay you. So I believe the only fair way to repay my debt is through my body." Roland then became embarrassed and blushed, "W-wait! What do you mean by that?"

"I mean sir, I will join you and your men and pay off my debt by fighting with you," Roland began to regain his composure, "I am good with a bow and can manage myself in a fight. Plus I can see a sheep three miles away and track him from five. That is, if you will have me."

Roland smiled, she would be a great addition to the group, "Of course we will have you," he said extending his hand. She took it firmly and he said, "Welcome aboard."

* * *

-End notes

Deshavi, Naked?

First I want to apologize to anyone if I offended them with this origin story, I felt as though I was writing a manga/anime, or even a porno with all of the references of getting naked. I hope this doesn't bump up the age rating…

Cheers,

Indogma.


	12. Out of the Khanate

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Out of the Khanate

* * *

It had been a few hours since the sun had risen, and the Wolves were making good time in the plains of the Khanate. Roland, riding at the head of the troop was riding along side with his friend Count Henderson of Suno, who was riding one of the spares horses that the Wolves had in their care. It had been but a few hours since the count's rescue form the city of Tulga, and Roland was still wide awake form all the excitement of almost getting caught.

The troop had long since turned north after passing the village of Bulugur, and was now heading for the Naleg castle and the pass which it guarded. As soon as they were past that, they were free from the fear of being caught. They could swing around the Veagirs' controlled land and head for Swadia. It was easy.

Roland and Henderson were deep in quiet conversation, mostly about the world they once knew. "No," said Henderson, "the one thing I miss the most, believe or not, is coffee. I have not had a good warm cup of joe in a long time. I'm craving it." Roland laughed. It was hard to forget that the two of them were some of the lucky few that survived traveling from one world to another. Buy yet they did, often. Only when they saw each other were they reminded of that fact.

As they the pass became visible in the distance, Roland then had the men stop. He saw the pass, but something looked off about it. He pulled out his binoculars and looked at pass. It was covered in a dark mass that seemed to be moving. But as watch it was, he could not be sure. He had a hunch, but he need to be sure. "Deshavi! I need you up here." The dark archer rode up to the side of Roland, "Here use these and tell me what you see."

She then looked through them, at first confused on how to use them, but soon she was able to use them effectively. "It's the Khanate, sir! They are laying siege to Naleg Castle!" she said handing the binoculars to Roland, who looked through them again and then handed them to Henderson. "She's right," Henderson said. "I see the purple banners, alright. They must have just declared war against the Vaegirs."

Roland then stared hard at the pass; it was suppose to be was their escape route. "What do we do now, Captain?" asked Deshavi. Roland then weighed his options, the pass was not an option, and the other passes castle was in Khanate control. North was blocked, but what about west? No, the west would now be full of patrols looking for them, plus it was the most concentrated of the Khanate villages. More chances of being spotted. That left the south—since the east was impassable— and the desert. Roland quickly looked behind him and looked at Haydee. She then looked at Roland with confusion in her face, then he came to a realization why Roland looked at her and a worried looked came over her face. She then looked at Roland with a concerned look. He gave a slow nod, confirming her fears. On the brink of tears Haydee then spurred her horse and then rode back to the end of the Wolves.

"Deshavi, have the men prepare to march south. To the Sarrdak Desert. I'll go talk with Haydee." He then spurred his horse to give chase to Haydee.

He had caught up to her at the very end of the line of Wolves. She had since stopped her horse, and had her eye closed. More out of anger then sadness. She heard Roland ride up beside her and opened her eye but did not look at him. "You said we would not have to go through the desert."

"Don't make me into a liar, Haydee." Said Roland coolly, "I said we probably wouldn't have to go through the desert. Well, looks like plans have changed. I did not foresee this."

"No," said Haydee in anger, "but you should have! You always predict everything, done to the minutest detail…" then tears began to fill her eye, "why… couldn't you predict this?" Roland said nothing, but instead rode closer to her and took her in his arms and placed her head on his shoulder. She began to sob, "I'm scared," she said, "I'm terrified that I will remember… I will relive what happened to me… and cause it again."

"Hey," said Roland softly, "I promise nothing will happen. We will be fine." "Hardeth promised me that… and he died for it." "Well I am not Hardeth…" said Roland, "and I will make sure nothing happens, ok?" Haydee sniffed hard, and nodded. "Good," said Roland, "Now chin up, we will be fine," he said smiling. Haydee nodded but still frowned, and both of them returned to the troop, and prepared to move south.

As noon came and went the wolves had made haste to the south, away form the Khanate's armies to the north. Roland had asked Haydee to remain close to him making sure she was all right. The Wolves were hugging the cliffs that elevated the lands to the east of the Khanate, hoping not to be seen by anyone.

By the after late afternoon, the Wolves could see the village of Dugan in the distance; and now they knew they were almost there. The then darted to the western mountains and begun to hug them, hoping to stay out the vision of the castle just behind the village, Asugan Castle.

As they headed south, Deshavi rode up to Roland and informed him that a band of Khanate riders were behind them heading directly for them. Roland then had the men pick up the pace, and the Wolves then made a break for it for the desert. Within the hour they could see the beginnings of the sea of sand and felt relieved. But behind then the Khanate men were still chasing them. Now they appeared to have more men with them.

As the Wolves began to touch the sand they slowed down, thinking they had won. When they looked back, they saw their pursuers were not giving up and still running after them with full strength. The Wolves then needed to get beyond the first castle in the desert, Sharwa Castle. As they went into the desert, night began to fall on them. When the sun had set, visibility became so poor they could not see the Khanate chasers any more.

Then to their left of the Wolves they could see the Sharwa Castle lit up with torches in the distance. They decided they head for it. As they approached the castle, they then saw a cloud of dust behind them behind a dune in the distance. They needed to hurry. When they reached the castle, a guard then called out to them, "Halt who goes there?" "Roland and the Wolves of Calradia!" Shouted Roland back at the guards, "We seek shelter for the night." There was a moment of unnerving silence. Then the gate slowly began to open and a guard came out. "I expect you can pay for logging tonight?" "That depends if you can provide them. I will pay once we then are inside, not a daners before or after." The guard then looked at Roland and stared blankly at him. The he sighed and signaled the gate to be raised. When it raised to the top of the gate the guard then motioned then through the gate. As soon as the Wolves were in the castle the gates closed. Roland then quickly spoke to the guard.

"Guard, there is 500 daners to you if you the gates shut for the rest of the night," he said bribing the guard. Then a voice came from the walls, "Sir! Khanates outside the walls! They want in!" The guard then looked and Roland suspiciously. "Friends of yours?" Then he went out of the castle to meet them. A silence fell over the castle, and every Wolf held his or her breath. Then the Khanate riders rode off into the desert and the guard returned.

"What did they want," asked Roland. As if he didn't know. "They wanted us to turn you and you men over to them. I told then they had no authority over us and to get lost. They threatened to siege the castle but I merely told them that the Wolves would help us in the case of a siege. Then they backed off, and decided to return home." The he turned to Roland, "you didn't by chance do something to upset the Khanate now, did you?" "Who me?" said Roland jokingly.

"How much do we owe you?" Roland asked. "500 to me and 30 for the night." Roland nodded and counted out the money for him. "Right the court yard is yours of the night, don't do anything stupid and we will not have any trouble. Understand?" Roland agreed and the guard then went up on the wall again and to gate house.

Roland then took a breath and relaxed, then he leaned his back against the wall and slowly slip down to the ground. "By the numbers we made it." Roland looked and saw Henderson beside him crouching right beside him. "You know for a second, I thought you just winging it!"

"You'd be right," admitted Roland.

Henderson laughed. "Well now, it's smooth sailing now huh?"

Then Roland caught a glimpse of Haydee in the mass of wolves in the yard. "No Henderson. We are not out of the woods yet…" said Roland. The he got up, walked over into the yard and started to bark orders at the Wolves and assigning tasks to them for the night. Leaving Henderson alone sitting beside the wall. It was the first time he truly saw Roland leading his men. And he was impressed. He let a chuckle leave his mouth before he felt exhausted. Leaning his head against the stonewall, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

-End Notes

Mount and Blade 2 Bannerlord

They have finally released an official trailer for the game! And while it is sort of low grade I could care less! It's a new M&B game. And the name sounds epic! Bannerlord, *drool*. Honestly I have not been this excited for a sequel since _Phoenix Wright,_ which by the way, they are making another one! Both trailers are on youtube if you want to see them!

Cheers

Indogma


	13. The Disowned Lady

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Disowned Lady

Haydee's Story Part 1

* * *

The morning was breaking in the east. It was rainy and miserable; the sun had refused to shine and hid itself behind a thick blanket of mist and clouds. Roland and the Wolves were packing camp and preparing to move out. Presently they were in an area known as the four kingdom's wasteland. It was a large portion of unclaimed land that lied between four castles: Reindi Castle of the Swadia, Unuzdaq Castle of the Khanate, Almerra Castle of the Kingdom of Rhodoks, and the Weyyah Castle of the Sultanate. It was a unclaimed land due to the fact it was unusable. The ground was rocky, and not suitable for cattle, and or herds. And the forest had a type of tree known as Black Tree. It was a poor wood and undesirable by all of the kingdoms, so most of the kingdoms left it alone.

Presently the Wolves were heading to Almerra Castle to again deliver a letter for another lord. It was small money but every little bit helped. When the group was about ready to leave, a group of Sultanate man hunters rode up to the group and wanted to meet with the leader.

Roland then met with them on the edge of the camp. "Can I help you?" he asked casually.

"We are looking for two people. We have tracked them down to the forest over there. One is a large man, and the other is a young woman. Both are wanted for crimes against the Sultanate. Have you seen them or have them in your company?"

"Might I ask why they are being chased?"

"They are traitors to the Sultan. Both have a fair bounty on there heads. The man as about 500 denars on his head, while the girl has 5000 on hers."

"I see," said Roland in thought. That was a large difference between the man and girl. Clearly the girl was important and the man was secondary.

"Have you seen them?" asked the Manhunter again.

Roland shook his head smiling, "I have not. Nor have any of my men. We have just arrived here yesterday. And have not seen anyone to your description. You can check our camp if you do not believe me."

"I won't bother," said the Manhunter. But then he added threatening. "Know this," he then lean and looked into Roland's eyes, "if you see them, I would hope you tell us and the forfeit them over to use. We have been hunting them for days and I will not have anyone else get that bounty. Understand?" "Clearly…" said Roland. With that the leader then turned and lead his men back to the way they came, and Roland then returned to his men.

Jeremus was the first to greet him. "I didn't think a girl could have that much of a bounty on her…" he observed.

Roland didn't need to ask whether or not he heard everything. Jeremus would figure it out eventually. "What do you suggest?" asked Roland probing for his opinion.

"Personally? I think we should leave the affairs of the Sultanate to themselves. But you're thinking other then that, aren't you?"

Roland smiled, "We'll see…" he said playfully.

* * *

Later that day the wolves were riding at a leisurely place. They were passing the edge of the Blackwood forest on their way to the Almerra Castle. As they rode by, Deshavi had to stop the group; she had seen something in the forest. Roland rode up to her and asked, "What is it?"

"Not sure, sir. But I see something in the forest," then she pointed, "there." Roland looked to where see was pointing. He couldn't make out anything. "Are you sure?" She nodded. She was a top grade spotter, it must go well with being an archer.

"Very well, you stay here with the men. Jeremus, Ymira with me. Let's go see what this is." The three dismounted and went into the forest, leaving the rest of the Wolves and Deshavi on the edge of the forest. As the three entered the forest, they bolted from tree to tree, remaining hidden. Soon Roland could see what Deshavi saw. There was a figure's shoulder peeking out form the edge of a tree. Not quite standing but to high up to be sitting. As they got closer, Roland noticed there were corpses around the figure, all freshly killed within a hour or two. As they got to the figure, they circled around and saw the figure's face. It was a very big man of about thirty. He had a long thick beard, and wore a Sultan's soldier uniform. Roland then concluded that the bodies were his handy work.

Then as they could see the man's face, the three of them could see another figure. It was a young girl, not older then sixteen, kneeling beside the figure, slouched over her knees. She had tan skin from living in a desert and long flowing black hair. She seemed in a daze, unsure of her surroundings, but just stared at the ground, lost within herself. She too wore a Sultanate dress, which made Roland then realized that the large figure and her were the ones the man hunters were looking for. Glancing quickly at one of the corpses, Roland also saw that they were the same manhunters from this morning. They had found them and tried to take them.

Roland then stepped out from the cover of the tree and walked toward the two figures. As he did, he stepped on a branch causing a loud snap. The girl then awoke from her dazed state and stared at Roland, she looked at him for a moment. Then her eyes filled with fear and in a panic, she picked up one of the manhunters swords and pointed it threateningly at Roland. As she pointed the blade at him, she began to shiver in fear. "W-w-who are you?!" she managed to stammer out, and added "Stay away from me!"

"Easy," Roland said trying to calm her down. "We are not going to harm you…" The girl just shook her head and held the sword firm, "No, I don't believe you!" Roland sighed. "Look," he said reasoning with her, "if we were trying to capture you the three us wouldn't hesitate to rush you… You seem unable to hold the sword up well on your own." She then looked at the sword in her hand and saw it shake. It was true, she could barely hold it up. But the statement did not help her lower her guard.

Then Roland decided to pull a move he did before that worked, he removed his sword from his belt and dropped it aside. She then looked at him confused. "Do you believe me know?" he asked. Seeing no other weapons on him… she lowered the blade slowly.

Then she looked at him and pleaded, "Please! If you're here to help, check on Hardeth! He's been standing there for a while now." Roland then glanced at the large man. He was pale, deathly pale. Roland could assume he was dead just by looking at him. But still he motioned Jeremus to check on him. As Jeremus walked to the giant man, Roland and Ymira walked over to the girl. Roland then, who had just purchased a cheap cloak for himself, gave it to her to help her stay warm. Roland then looked at Jeremus to see the verdict, he shook his head after checking on the body.

"No," she said softly, "No, no, no." Tears then slowly began to flow down her cheeks. She then bolted and grabbed the dead man's leg, "No, you can't die Hardeth! You're all I have left! You promised me your wouldn't die! You promised!" Her cries then became sobs, "Hardeth!" She then gripped his leg tighter, but still the man did not stir. The three Wolves just stood there, watching the young girl cry. All three looked at the scene with sorrow, and felt sorry for the girl.

After five minutes, the girl's cries had stopped, and she then became motionless. The other three then shared an uneasy glanced at each other. Roland walked up and placed his hand on her shoulder asking, "Are you alright?" As soon as the weight of his hand went on her shoulder, she then dropped to the ground as if she was numb. "Jeremus!" Roland called, the surgeon came running up to the girl to check on her.

He then sighed relieved, "She's breathing… she must of fainted from shock." Roland nodded, and then he took her in his arms and began to carry her to the edge of the wood. As he walked by the giant man, he stopped and said, "we'll come back to bury him. Only him, I doubt the others really deserve a grave." Then he walked toward the edge of the forest were the rest of the Wolves were waiting, with a young Sarrinad woman in his arms.

* * *

The young girl awoke to a white canvas above her head. As she slowly rose from the cot, and saw that she was in a tent. "Oh your up," came a voice at her feet. It was Ymira, the blonde haired girl she had seen before with the other two men.

"Where am I?" She asked. "In camp, this is Roland's tent. He was willing to part with it for a night and let you have it." Then she remembered, "Hardeth? What about him?" Ymira shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "So it was not a dream…" she realized. "No," said Ymira, "I'm afraid not. We buried him while you were asleep." "What? Where?" "Just outside the forest." She then jumped from the cot and rushed through the flaps of the tent. She then ran through the camp, brushing past the other people in the camp and made it through to the edge of the forest and saw a large mound of rocks, a burial mound…

She then slowly stepped toward the mound, holding back the river of tears that wanted to flood her eyes. She then placed her hand on one of the cold damp rock and let the tears roll down her face, not caring who saw her. Back at the camp, most of the men had gathered at the edge of it and watched the young girl stare at the rocks. Then they made a hole for their leader who then stood in front of his men, and looked at the girl. As he did, it began to rain heavy on the camp, the men and the girl.

The leader then stepped forward and placed his cloak on the girl's shoulders. She felt the heavy cloak being placed on her, but she did not resist. She just sat their and stared at the rocks. "He told me to run…" said the girl finally, "he wanted me to get away. We were being chased by those men. He said he would distract them and come back for me. But I went back… I couldn't leave him. He was all I had left. I found him as you did… He knew... he knew he would not live."

Roland then leaned down and spoke to her, "Come inside the tent. You'll catch your death out here in this rain." She looked at him blankly, but did not move. It was Roland that had to start her on her feet, and he guided her to the tent. As they passed the edge of the camp, the men made a tunnel for them to the tent.

Inside the tent, the girl saw Ymira and another, the surgeon Jeremus. Roland lead her to the cot and sat her down. The surgeon then handed her a bowl of warm soup. "Eat this, it will warm you right up." The girl then looked at he soup, it was yellow with flavor and the smell seem to make her stomach growl with excitement. She then lightly sipped the broth and tasted the rich spices of the soup. To her it was a feast in a bowl.

"We hope we did alright, burying him like that. We were not sure what your customs were but it seemed like the best we could do." "Thank you, what you did was fine…" "I'm sorry we could not do anything for him," said the surgeon. The girl shook her head, "Don't be… I knew deep down he was gone… I just needed to face it…" she said slowly taking another sip of the soup. It was warming her up, and her shivering was slowly stopping.

"I should thank you all…" she said. "You don't have to, but if you want to, go ahead," smiled Roland. She then looked at him, "Thank you. Sir…?" "It's just Roland. And these are my men, we call ourselves the Wolves…" then he pointed toward the others in the tent. "That's Ymira and our surgeon, Jeremus." Then he looked at the girl, "I can take many guesses as to who you are, but I'd rather hear it from you."

The girl then sipped the final bit of the soup and put the bowl to the side. "My name is Lady Hayah Deema Parveen. I am," she then corrected herself, "I was a lady of the Sarrinak Sultanate. My uncle is the Sultan."

"Why is the Sultanate currently hunting you?" asked Ymira.

"My father, Lord Hakem, wanted to become the Sultan. A month ago he started a civil war, with his own personal guard. Then a week ago, my uncle came and besieged the castle. Only 12 of us escaped, my father and brothers went to gather support, while my father told me and Hardeth to travel to Saren. He had an old friend there, and he would be able to hide us until the civil war was over. Then the manhunters found us… I heard them taunt Hardeth, saying that my fathers and brothers were executed a few days ago." She then begun to tear up again, "my whole family is gone. My father… my brothers… I never got to say goodbye…" she said crying. Ymira then sat beside her and held her. The young girl cried for her family she would never see again.

When the tears slowed and said, "I have nothing now to live for…" Then she stood up and wiped her tears and looked at Roland seriously, "I will have no objections if you wish to turn me in to my uncle. You all have been more then considerate and hospitable to me, and I will not resist."

All of the eyes in the tent shifted to Roland. He folded his hands together and tapped the his two pointer fingers on his mouth in thought. He wondered if this request was from a strange sense of family duty, or whether or not she cared any longer what happened to her.

Making up his mind, he smiled. "5000 daners is a lot of money." Ymira was about to stand to object what he was insinuating. He then raised his hand to stop her, "however, the one thing that they do not mention is that it's blood money. We're not that poor were 5000 daners would make us live like kings. Personally I do not think I could live with myself if I turned you in for money. From what you have told me, you have not done anything wrong. I do not think you deserved to be punished."

Hayah was rendered speechless, she had never met a peasant who would turn down that much money. Then he smiled, "how that that's settled. The next question is… what will you do next?"

Hayah found it hard to answer, still in shock, "Well… I guess I would go to Saren, and hide there. But now that seems impossible, since I now can never go home…"

"I have a proposal," said Roland, "from your present situation. It sounds like you need to move around a lot without staying to long in one place. And in the presence of armed guards. Well, we are armed and we do not stay in one area for long." "You want… me to join you?" "It would be up to you, and you can leave at any time. You will be the safest here, only the three of us know of your identity." Then he took a serious tone, "but I will say this. An Sarrinad woman on her own will most likely draw attention to herself. Making more likely for your uncle to find you again. Plus I doubt you have any experience with the outside world. Making it that much harder to live out in a city or village. Keep that in mind, when making your decision." The Roland exited the tent, followed by Jeremus and Ymira. Leaving the young Sarrinad girl alone in the tent to make her next move.

Morning came, and the rain had stopped some time in the night, but the grass had remained wet. Everything was soaked, and even with them small tents that the men had, they were soaked to the bone. Roland went into the tent, but found it empty. He then went to the only place the girl could go, if she decided to stay. He found her at the mound, kneeing in front of it again, like the previous night.

He then walked behind her, "Have you made up your mind?" She glanced at the leader, and then looked back to the mound. "I wanted to say goodbye, one last time." She smiled weakly, it was more of a pitiful smile then a happy one, "He was always there for me. He was my personal guard. Ever since I was a little girl, he was looking over me. Like a loving dog…" Then she added, "I'll miss him."

Sighing, she stood up. "I have given your proposal some thought… and have decided to go with it, for now." "For now?" "Yes, you said I could leave at any time… I hope some day I can find a home for me." "A home?" "Yes, that is all that I want… a home."

Roland nodded, "sounds like a good dream to have." Said Roland.

Then she turned at walk toward the tent. "I am ready to leave, just say the word."

As she passed him he called back to her, "Oh. one more thing, we may have to call you by a different name. Hayah Deema may cause people to suspect who you are."

"My brothers called me Haydee for short. Will that work?" "That sounds lovely," said Roland cheerfully.

* * *

~Present day~

Roland sighed a breath of relief. The problems of the Wolves were now settled, and most of the men were fed. Now, apart from the guards, everyone was heading to bed in Sharwa Castle. As Roland looked around the camp, he saw a figure sitting on the walls looking up into the sky. It was Haydee.

He then joined her on the top of the wall, and looked at the night sky with her. "Beautiful night, huh?" He said.

She smiled not taking her eyes off the sky, "yes, yes it is…" She then looked ahead, "you know, I never realized how much I missed this… I briskness of the night, the sounds of sand blowing in the wind, the way the moon illuminates the dunes in the night, the countless stars that are rarely covered with clouds…" she then closed her eye, "I makes me think of my family."

"Do you ever think about them?" Asked Roland.

"Occasionally. Often there is a smell of a certain food that will remind me of a dinner I had with them. Or a phrase someone said that my family also said that makes me think about them. And what is strange is that I no longer cry when I think back, not a tear. I think about them yes, but I now longer morn for their deaths."

"Have you found what you joined us to find?" he asked again. Haydee looked at him confused, "Home, I mean." She shook her head, "no, not yet. But I will know it once I see it." "Good," said Roland walking back to the camp, "I'm glad you have not forgotten yourself."

"Roland," she called after him. He looked behind him. "Thank you…" she said smiling, "for everything." "No problem." And then he turned and left the disowned lady on the wall to her stargazing.

* * *

-End Notes-

Your Opinion

I want to hear from you guys as to the story. What do you like about it? What is your favorite character? And so on. As well as any constructive criticism. I am always open for that.

Names

Haydee's true name means "life" (Hayah) and "rainy cloud" (Deema) in Arabic. I picked them because first the prefixes of the names make up Haydee. Second I picked "Life" because she is the only one left alive of her family. And "rainy cloud" to indicate the weather when she met Roland.

Cheers!

Indogma


	14. Under the Sarrdak Sun

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Under the Sarrdak Desert Sun

* * *

The sun beat down on the bright yellow dunes of the Sarrdak Desert. One set of dunes were dotted with figures on horsemen. The Wolves were slow to advance through the desert taking there time crossing each dune as they pass. While the wolves had dodged one potential political encounter, they found themselves in a place with another chance of another one. While many did not know why Roland was being cautious; but Jeremus, Ymira and Haydee, her being the reason, knew.

In the few days they had been in the desert, Roland had guided the Wolves from the Sharwa Castle directly to the west, avoiding any village or castle if they could help it. Buy the end of the second day; it was clear this plan was doomed to fail. Half of a day was spent heading in the direction of Ahmerrad to gather supplies. But when they arrived outside the city, they camped a short distance way. Roland didn't have to ask Haydee to remain outside the camp, she knew just being this close to the city was a risk alone.

While camping outside the city, Roland made inquiries inside the city while gathering supplies about which lords were in the field and which ones remained at their home. He found that most of the lords where in the field except for Emir Dhashwal, who was staying in his castle, Teramma Castle, on some personal vendetta against the local desert bandits in the region. When he returned to the camp, he asked Haydee, "Do you know a Emir Dhashwal?"

"Yes," she replied quickly and spitefully, "He was one of the nobles who convinced my father to rebel. He claimed to support my father and offered troops, but he folded the very first instant that he could. Turned a traitor to my father, and supported my uncle against his word." "Would he recognize you?" "I was to be married to him Roland…" she said bluntly, "He would recognize me… Why?" "The only way to reach the sea line is bypassing his castle. He is the only lord that is not currently in the field. In short: he is the one that could potentially ruin us."

"Not if we head towards Hattin Castle." Suggested Haydee. Roland gave a puzzled looked. "If we hug the mountains to the north of the Teramma Castle, and follow them we should reach Castle Hattin and be able to continue the sea directly." Roland then reflected on the idea, it would be the safest and easiest to navigate. "Are you sure you would be up to it?" He asked. She nodded, "I think it's time I faced my past. And hopefully bury some ghosts as well…" Roland nodded, while it had little to do with him, he agreed it might be good for her.

After a day of camping outside the city, the Wolves then prepared to head further west. While doing that, Henderson was preparing a letter. "What is that?" Asked Roland. Henderson smiled, "It's have a welcome party when we enter into Swadia. I'm ordering Nox to send my men to Reindi Castle and wait for me there. That way I can leave you to your own work, and head back to Suno with my own men." "Why don't you enjoy our company?" Joked Roland. Henderson chuckled, "No, but it is a different feel having someone else in charge of when we travel… not something I am used to after these last couple of years."

Roland understood. He bet he would not enjoy being under the care of a younger man with no real political weight behind him. "Isn't Reindi Castle still a distance away from the sea line." "Yes, but there is no closer place for the men without getting close to another faction's castle." "What about the Four Kingdom's Wasteland?" Henderson shook is head, "I though of that, how ever it is rather hard to navigate, and there is no real notice able features." "There may be one…" said Roland. He then took out the map the Henderson gave him all those years ago. He then pointed to a area in the wasteland, "Here, there should be a mound of rocks," Hardeth's grave marker, "you can use that as a meeting place." Henderson looked at Roland, he saw that Roland knew what he was taking about. "Alright I trust you…"

He then wrote the letter with the new instructions. Sealed it and then went into the city to prepare a messenger. "The Khanate will not suspect a Sarridad to be carrying a Swadian message," explained Henderson.

* * *

After purchasing the necessary supplies, Roland and the Wolves moved out. Now traveling all day with out making camp, the Wolves made good time. In two days they had reached the mountains that resided north of Teramma Castle. And in less then one they would reach the ruined castle. Flowing the mountains, the Wolves managed to avoid all contact with any party of any other people.

However, by the end of the third day, it was clear to Roland that everyone in the company was moral was low. Despite having enough food and water to last them a week longer, the lack of sleep and the heat was getting to everyone. Matheld and Ymira were on each others' nerves, despite not liking each other to begin with. Lezalit was in an even fouler mood then ever, yelling and cussing at every one, even Artimenner. Roland worried that he would snap soon, and when he did, it would be a bad scene.

When they finally arrived at the castle, Roland half expected it to be a hive of bandits. It would be a good stress relief for most of the men, actually. But to his surprised the ruins of the castle was empty. Most of the wall was still standing but some of it had collapsed. The keep itself was still intact and it's roof still on the keep. It would be a welcomed relief, a sheltered place away from the sun.

Entering into the castle Roland then made it the Wolves temporary fortress. He had the men begin to settle in the castle. He posted a few to keep watch, had Katrin begin making a decent meal. And that night the men were able to sleep for the first time in several days. It was a welcomed break.

However, Roland had his reservations. He had noticed Haydee was extremely quiet. Whether she was hurting for being there or not, Roland could not tell. If it were up to him the troop would just pass the castle, and continue to the sea. But that was not the case, the men needed rest or he would have a lot of angry men at him. He needed to he a captain before he thought of Haydee.

* * *

The first night the troop was there, he went exploring into the keep. In his search he came across a room that was illuminated by another torch then his own. He entered into the room and saw Haydee, sitting on a frame of a large floor bed. She heard him approach but did not look at him. She was too busy looking at the room, remembering.

"This was my room…" she said deep in her remembrance. "This was the place were I slept every night. Where my mother taught me how to stitch… and what a lady should be…" The she began to laugh, "What she would say to me if she saw me now." This was the first time Roland had heard of her mother. He guess because of what happened to the rest of her family, it seemed trivial. "What happened to her?" Roland asked.

Haydee looked at Roland, "She was supposedly killed by some desert bandits, three years before the rebellion. At least she died peacefully, never knowing what was to happen to us…" Roland then felt stupid asking about it, it seemed to make it worse. "He loved her…" Haydee said. "What?" "My father…" explained Haydee, "He loved my mother. When she was alive, she gave him this sort of "brightness" to his eyes. When she died, it seemed to fade. He was still a good man, but he seemed less of himself…" Then she smiled, "You know, my mother was not of royal blood. She was a slave to my grandfather, but my father found her fair and beautiful. Despite my grandfather's wishes, he married her and made her is equal." "What was her name?" "While a slave she was called, Arwatedee. But when my father was courting her, he gave her a necklace of Pearls, and other slaves started to teaser her and call her, Awra the Pearled One. That was her name, after my father married her."

"It's pretty…" said Roland. "She was…" Said Haydee. Then she sighed deeply and stood up, "But there is no point in dwelling on the past." "Has coming here helped?" Asked Roland concerned. Haydee smiled, "Do you see me crying?" "I'll take that as a "yes"." She nodded, "I've come along way since you rescued me… and I have had a lot of time to morn… now is the time to let go. My past is like this castle, a relic…" Then she smiled wide, "I'm not the scared little noble girl anymore."

Roland smiled, he then remember the girl he found about two years ago in the wasteland. Soaked from the mist and rain, and half in a daze. He compared it to her now, she had changed. "Good to hear that," he said. Then he began to turn around, "I better get back, and make sure the men are behaving themselves."

"Roland…" said Haydee softly, stopping him from fully turning. "Promise me that nothing will happen to the Wolves because of me." Roland smiled, "I will make sure of it." He turned but was interrupted again by, "Roland…" He turned back again. "Thank you…" Roland smiled again and left the young girl to her room.

* * *

The next day had come to quickly, but the Wolves felt refreshed. Roland decided to have the men catch their breath here for a few days. He ran the idea between Haydee, who did not mind, and neither Henderson who did welcome the rest and the idea to let his message reach Suno. Today Ymira was in charge of training the first group. In the Wolves it was customary to train the fighters for combat. While every one disliked the idea, they saw the method behind his madness. Ever since they started, they started to take less wounds and injuries and even fewer fatalities. So they went along with it, knowing the benefits outweighed the annoyance.

While Ymira was beginning to instruct sword blocks, she saw from the corner of her eye Lezalit approaching her. She disliked him in every way, he was loud, had no control over his temper and thought of anyone not noble to be beneath him. Once he had even called her a "slut" under his breath. She had heard him but decided to say nothing. He walked up to her and said, "I believe you should let me instruct them, I have more experience in training men then you will ever have." Ymira glanced coldly at Lezalit. This was not the first time he had did something like this. He had tried it once before with her, she had held her ground then, and she had no intention to give it up now.

"Lezalit, Roland did instructed me to train the men today. That is what I intend to do," then she looked at him, "whether or not you believe it to be the best." She then looked back at the trainees, thinking that was it. But to Lezalit, it wasn't. He then grabbed her arm forcefully, and turned her to look back at him, startling Ymira. "Listen you slut," he said with deadly ferocity, "I've been train men since you were playing with dolls! I am a noble, and I demand respect. You know what we did with women that disrespected our authority? We flogged them! Flogged them in front of a crowd, to teach them a lesson. Maybe that is what you need, a flogging to learn your place!"

Ymira them removed his hand, she was tempted to inform Roland, but she didn't want to run to him to merely tattle. He had threatened her in front of the men, and she needed to react strongly. If not she would have lost some respect of her men. While still shaken by the sudden outburst, she swallowed hard and said, "Go ahead and try. I am not intimidated by some "would be" noble. Need I remind you that you are no longer a noble. Therefore if you have no right to flog anyone who did you wrong. And if you do not like a woman giving you orders, then you are welcomed to leave!" This time it was Lezalit's turn to be surprise. After seeing his face, Ymira felt a warmth glow within her. She had intimidated him. Turning again to walk towards her men, she now felt that she had won a major victory.

As she walked, she paid little attention to Lezalit behind her. Until she saw a threatening shadow come up from behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Lezalit, with his eyes blinded with rage, and a sword above his head, and it was not a wooden sword, it was real. Ymira reacted as quickly as she could, placing the practice sword she had between her and his sword. As soon as the two blades meet, the wooded blade broke from the force of the real blade. As it broke through the blade hit Ymira on the front of the shoulder. Thanks to the wooden sword, however the amount of force that was behind the strike was dampened. And while it hurt like hell for Ymira, it did not wound her or pierce her chain mail.

In pain, she fell to the ground, dropping her broken blade and grabbing her shoulder. She looked up and saw Lezalit readying the blade for a downward thrust at Ymira, she quickly rolled to the side and dodged the thrust. Trying to get up, she then attempted to move her right arm. But it did not reacted to her commands, the blow must had pitched a nerve. But now she could only use her left arm.

Slowly getting up, she pulled a small decorated dagger from her boot, the only thing she had kept from her former life. It was not much but at least it would hold more then the wood blade did. She readied the blade, and prepared for the worst. Lezalit rushed in and swung his blade, Ymira dodged it and tried to counter, but because of her dead arm she could not swung as quickly. He was able to dodge that attack, and kicked her, making her fall to the ground again. Again he moved in for the final blow, and Ymira could not do anything.

Lezalit was just about to swing the blade, when a figure seem to come from no where and tacked him to the side. It was Matheld, with a Nordic shield and a Nordic ax to match. Why she was there, it seemed she herself did not know. "Matheld…" said Ymira surprised. The blonde Nord just looked down at Ymira and then focused back at Lezalit. She had thrown him off his balance, but he recovered quickly. He then turn and stared angrily at Matheld. She was now to the focal point of his rage.

He then rushed and swung his blade; Matheld blocked it with her shield, and countered with her ax. He was able to dodge the ax and countered with a pommel to Matheld's head, which made her stumble back. The wound was a small burse, but it was enough to cause blood to trickle down her face. Lezalit lunged again and Matheld tried to dodge, but the hit disoriented her, and she stumbled to the ground.

As he moved toward Matheld, a voice shouted, "Lezalit!" The angered man turned and saw Bunduk with a crossbow trained in on him. "You better stand where you are if you know what's good for ya!" Lezalit then looked around saw the entire band of Wolves had their weapons ready and surrounded him. Then from the masses, Roland walked into the circle the men had made. He just stared at Lezalit, eyes filled with quite anger. He then glanced at his handy work, Ymira was on her feet, and Matheld was slowly getting up. Then he looked back at Lezailt, "You two better get to Jeremus to have a look at you". Ymira then offered her good hand to Matheld, who took it. Then the two girls slowly walked out of the circle, but as they passed Roland Matheld protested, "I don' have to see that doctor, I'm fine Roland."

Roland glanced at her seriously, enough to send a chill down her spine, "I'm not asking you, Matheld. It's. A Damn. Order. Now go, while I deal with this trash." Matheld then backed down and then walked over to the surgeon's tent with Ymira. Looking at Lezalit, the two of them began to circle around each other. "I knew you hand anger troubles, but I never expected this from you. You reached a all new low, Lezalit."

Lezalit said nothing. But kept up the fierce look at Roland. Then Lezalit lunged ahead, shouting "Die!" Roland dodged it and swung his sword at Lezalit's back. Lezalit stepped aside, and dodged. The fight then ensued for several minutes, with no will victor clear. But the fighting was taking its toll on Lezalit, his blind fury had caused him to become exhausted after several minutes of fighting.

Roland then took that opportunity, Lezalit swung the blade in a side sweeping action, and Roland dodged it by leaping under Lezalit's arm. He then took advantage of Lezalit's slow recovery. He then wedged his sword on the opposite side of Lezalit's right elbow. Lezalit, the tired to force him back, by swinging the sword on a reverse track from what he swung before. But Roland expected that, and he used his free hand to grab the armed wrist. He then twisted the arm, making Lezalit lose all strength in his hand, making him drop his sword. In a swift movement, Roland then used his sword as a lever, wrapping Lezalit's around it, and then he pulled it, straining his arm. Then a loud crack came from the arm, and Lezalit screamed in pain. Roland then quickly pulled his sword away, and let the arm fall. It was at least dislocated, but Roland suspected he had broken it.

Lezalit, then fell to his knees in pain and grabbed his arm. Roland then stepped back, Lezalit now could not fight back. He had won, and everyone knew it. When Lezalit stopped screaming, he looked a Roland, with eyes of hatred. "You, You!" Said Lezalit, lost for words in his anger. Roland just stared at him, not caring. He then slowly began to walk away he was finished. But Lezalit, was not. He then stood on his feet, and yell. "You bastard!" Roland stopped and looked at him, and Lezalit continued, "You, you broke my arm!"

"And you tried to kill Ymira and Matheld. Frankly, you are lucky to be still be breathing. You noble prick…"

"Ha, and what are you? You are no different from me!"

This stung for Roland he then swung around, and said threateningly, "Say that again, see what happens…"

"I know Roland." He said almost smiling, "I know why we are avoiding all the major cities and hiding out in this old abandoned castle! You have nobility in the troop!" The wolves looked at each other confused. "Don't be surprised! Your leader lies to you all. He has a Sultanate princess in the troop with us! The one you call Haydee! She is the one."

Roland wanted to kill Lezalit, but he knew there would be little point now. The troop knew, and he was unsure how they would react. The troop loved Haydee, she was never hated, even Artimenner enjoyed her presence, but what would they think of her now? She was the reason why they had such a difficult trip. From the crowd, Haydee forced her way into the circle. When she stood next to Roland, and shouted, "What he says is true. I am Hayah Deema Parveen of the Sutlanate, my father was Emir Hakem, brother to the present Sultan." Roland looked at Haydee, who smiled weakly, "I'm no longer afraid… besides they have a right to know…"

"Haydee…" sighed Roland.

"Ha, see!?" Shouted Lezalit, thinking he had won. But as he looked around, he saw little anger amongst the Wolves. Instead the expression he was could be best described as "understanding"… as if they could reason away why Roland kept it secret. But Lezalit, tried to entice them, "Well don't just stand there! Are you angry that he took advantage of you?"

Then one of the men stepped forward, "Meebe, but he's 'ever lead us a'stray yet!" Then the others grounded in agreement. "He's gave us food!" Came a voice from the crowd. "Shelter!" "And a purpose!" Then a sword sister stepped up, "He's also treated us like equals!" And there came a louder grunt of agreement.

Lezalit could no longer believe it, the troop was supporting Roland, despite of the secrecy. "She's a Wolf!" said the sword sister, "and we look after each other despite our pasts." And a cheer came up form the group. "And she is a far better wolf then you ever were!" "Here, here!" said the crowd.

It was clear, Lezalit's attempts to defeat Roland failed. Roland sigh relieved, he then looked around and smiled, "Thank you… Thank you all!" The Wolves then began to cheer his name, "Roland! Roland! Roland!" He then walked over to Lezalit and smiled, victoriously, "You lose…"

Then he shouted "Alayen!" The brown haired man walked to his captain, "get a pair of irons for our friend here. Then take five men a escort in to a nearby village, and leave him there, I've had enough of this garbage." Alayen nodded, and motioned two men to guard Lezalit. Roland then sheathed his blade and walked toward Jeremus's tent. As he passed, the men made a pathway for him. He then stopped, surprised. But then he thankfully nodded. "You were brilliant sir," said Bunduk. "Thanks, Bunduk." Then he continued toward the tent.

Roland open the flap of Jeremus's tent and entered. Matheld was standing, she had a bandage across her head, watching Ymira have her arm being put in a sling. Jeremus saw Roland in the tent, and let his "assistant" Firentis help with Ymira's sling. "Just bruised, she should be able to move it again in a few days." Then he looked at Matheld, "She just had a hit to the head… nothing serious. I'm surprised she came to me…" "I ordered her to," said Roland, "I wanted her make sure she was alright, along with Ymira."

She smiled, "I'm fine sir." Then she looked at Matheld, "Thanks to her." Matheld filched, "Hey don't start thinking that I like you, girl. I just happened to see how you stood up to him, and felt he didn't deserve to get the better of you. Besides, if you died, I would have no one to hate. That's all…" Then she exited the tent and left the others.

"That's an odd way to saw that she cares…" said Jeremus. "Agreed," said Roland.

* * *

The night then came over the castle and the wolves were preparing to move out in the morning. Alayen and the others returned after dropping off Lezalit in the village Qalyut. As Roland did a quick check on the camp, he saw Artimenner sitting beside the fire. He then walked up to him, "How goes it, Artimenner?" Artimenner looked up at Roland, "Oh, sir. It's fine…"

Roland doubted that, Lezalit was one of his friends, a rare thing to be said. "I ask, because I want to know how you are dealing with Lezalit's behavior." Artimenner smiled, "I am alright sir, but it did surprise me." Then he looked at the fire, and said, "I am thinking of leaving the Wolves…" "What?" Artimenner nodded, "I'm getting too old to travel, Roland. I need to settle down, to rest. It's nothing personal, Roland, but I just cannot do it anymore." Roland nodded, he did notice Artimenner was slowing down. "Do you have some work in mind?"

Artimenner smiled, "well your friend Count Henderson offered me a job at his castle. He called it "Master of Siege Engines"… sounds perfect for me." Roland smiled, "It does sound perfect for you." He then held out his hand, "It'll be sad to see you go…" "I'll feel the same way Roland," said Artimenner taking his hand. "Thank you."

Roland smiled and walked back to his tent. Inside he found Henderson looking over a map, on the table in the middle. Roland had agreed to share the tent with him as long as he was with them. "I see you are busy," said Roland. Henderson nodded, "The burdens of office." "I talked with Artimenner, he said you offered him a job." "You didn't know?" Roland shook his head. "Well I though he would have told you, he seemed quite open with discussing it with me." "No he didn't…" Henderson said apologetic, "well I'm sorry that I stole him from you." "Don't be, it's he choice what he does with his live. And I'm not mad." "You won't be needing him, right?" Roland shook his head, "Not unless I have to siege a castle to save your sorry ass again…" Both of the men laughed.

After the laughter died, Henderson said, "Are Ymira and Matheld ok?" Roland nodded, "their injuries should heal with time, no major damaged." "That's good," nodded Henderson. "I'm surprised that Lezalit lost his head like that." "So am I," said Roland. He knew he would have to deal with Lezalit eventually, but never this soon. "Can't say I am sorry to see him go, especially after what he did…"

"Well we can dwell on the past," said Henderson rolling up the map, "and we shouldn't let people who you hate keep you up at night. If you let them do that, they win in the end…"

Roland nodded, "Don't worry, I'll not lose any sleep over that bastard."

"Good," said Henderson. "And don't worry about Haydee… she seems to be stronger then you think she is. She did the right thing by not refuting Lezalit today. And I think the men respected that, so she is fine."

Roland smiled; Henderson had a way for making him feel better. Before he turned in, Roland asked, "Henderson?" "Yeah?" "Have you heard any news on Francis?" "I have heard rumors, and when I get beck to Suno, I intend to confirm them…" Then he looked at Roland, "Why, do you hate it here that much?" "No…, that's the thing, I might not want to go back…" He then looked at Henderson, "Well I mean what would I do? I certainly can't lead a band of mercenaries back home!" "Write a book…" replied Henderson shrugging it off. Roland chuckled and sank into his cot. But he did not go to sleep right away, Roland's mind was in a turmoil of thoughts. If he did have a chance to go back, would he?

Little did Roland know, Henderson was up as well. Thinking the same thing…

* * *

-End Notes-

Classes

The hard part is almost over, then I can pick up on the stories again! Just one more week, be patient!

Awra the Pearled One

When I thought of the character of Haydee, I was at first tempted to substitute Awra for her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. But I still wanted to find a way to include her, then it came to me as I was writing this chapter. Make her Haydee's mother. Is she dead or alive? And Will see play a role in the future? I myself do not know…

More Mount and Blade on FanFiction! Please?

I have to admit, it's nice to be the only one who is updating a Mount and Blade FanFic, it's provided me with about 100 views a month, but I do not want to monopolize it… So this is a shout out to all the potential Mount and Blade FanFic writers, please join in! I'd rather enjoy the company and completion, (to use an extreme word,) in this FanFic. Or if you are saving up for the next Mount and Blade, that's understandable… I might make one depending one how the sequel turns out… But that I just a little request from the author.

Cheers

Indogma


	15. Klethi: The Supersitious Assassin

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Klethi: The Superstitious Assassin

The streets of Uxkhal were quiet and dark. Despite it being a full moon, a blanket of clouds did their best to hinder the moon's rays. Along the main street, several torches, hung on the buildings, lighted the path, occasionally a patrol of men would cross the path, each one lighting up the street with their own individual torch. Apart from them the streets were deserted, and only thieves and brigands walked the streets this late.

In an alleyway four figures laid in wait. They were keeping their eyes open on the main road, looking out for any people and patrols. Three of the figures kept close to each other, looking out the into the street, while the fourth hung back, deeper inside the alley. The figure was preoccupied, leaning against a building sharpening a knife against a block.

"You certainly seem calm," said one of the three front figures. The fourth chuckled, "This isn't my first… although it appears to you threes'." "That's why we hired you." Said the first.

"Touché…" said the fourth. "So who is it I'm suppose to take care of?"

"You mean who we want ya to kill?" said one of the figures.

"Don't say kill…" said the fourth, "it's bad luck."

"The guy you're gonna kill, he's name is Roland. He's the leader of some merc group. Called the Wolves." "The Wolves?" "Yeah, they robbed us of a pretty good score." "Our boss kidnapped a girl of a rich merchant, and held her ransom. Then he shows up, kills our boss and saves the girl. He was supposed to deliver the money, not attack us." "Well he seems resourceful." "Yeah, that's why we want you to take care of him. To get back at him for our mates!" "Well, if we have an agreement, he disappears, for the price." "Yes, 50 daners, as agreed." The figure then straightened up from the wall.

"Good," the figure walked up to the end of the ally, the light revealed a young girl no older then eighteen, with grey eyes, short red hair, and freckles. "You three better get ready to pay." "And you better get ready to get." Said on the figures turning toward her, "He's coming." All four of them crouched in the shadows. She looked at her target, she was unimpressed. "I'd say fifty is a bit much for him…" she thought, but she did not complain. More for her.

"Right, have at him." Said one of the figures. She then pulled out one of her knives, and began to mutter some poem of assassins that she made up. Then she kissed the knife and grabbed two handfuls of dirt and plopped it on the top of her boots. Then she inhaled deeply and walked casually towards Roland, who was heading up the street.

As she left the three figures behind, they whispered to themselves, "strange girl…" "Superstitious." "Better keep an eye on her, in case she loses." All three nodded and went into the alley, to cut off Roland and his would be assassin.

Roland was walking slowly along the street back to the tavern, singing a song to himself. He was very pleased with himself, the local guild master had requested him to deliver a ransom, but instead Roland defeated the bandits and returned the money and the daughter back to the merchant. Not only was the merchant and guild master pleased, but somehow Count Delinard heard of his exploit and thanked him personally. The count also implied that he would enjoy if Roland were to stop by tomorrow, to discuss another mission that he might have for him. The mission clearly was a success, and Roland was happy.

As he walked along, he could hear the sounds of a person behind him, but he thought nothing of it. He then tightened his thick cloak to stay warm. He had just gotten out of having dinner with the Count, and he still had his weapons and a heater shield he was trying out. He was two lazy to take off his shield and put his cloak on. So he merely put the black thick cloak on over the shield, covering his shield as well.

He continued along the path, not really noticing the person behind him was raising a knife, ready to throw it him. The girl behind Roland slowly aimed, and released the knife at Roland's back. The knife went flying though the air flawlessly, as if it was cutting the air itself. It hit Roland in the back and made a loud _Thunk!._ The knife, (unbeknownst to Klethi), had hit the shield on Roland's back under his cloak.

Roland felt the knife hit his shield, and he knew someone had threw a something. Roland then turned and saw a red haired girl in plain dress under a black wool cloak. On her dress belt, Roland saw several knives, not the knives a peasant would have, assassin's knives. He then realized the girl's intentions.

The girl realized that the knife did no damage to Roland and quickly grabbed another knife to throw at him. Roland in turn unbuckled the shield of his back and put on his arm. When it was on his arm, he looked an quickly had to duck behind the shield to avoid an incoming knife. The knife hit the shield with another loud _Thunk!_ Just near the very top of the shield, as if she had been aiming for his head. Roland then began to walk slowly in a circle with the red haired girl. Making sure she was always in front of the shield.

While circling, he blocked every knife that came flying towards him. After about eight knives, Roland's shield looked like a cutting board. The assassin on the other hand was beginning to worry. This was the first time that the target had a really good chance to fight back, and she was running out of knives… Soon she had only two knives left, and they were her close quarters knives. She then equipped them, but still kept up the circling, she didn't want to fight him in close quarters because she had a plain dress and he had armor. Roland then relaxed his shield, but kept it ready, and drew his sword.

The two paced around each other in silence, looking at each other, waiting for other to make the first move. Then the girl broke the silence, "You know… I thought I was being over paid for getting rid of you. But I see that perhaps they were paying me too little…"

"Uhh, thanks?" Said Roland unsure if it was a complete from the person who was trying to kill him. "Can I ask, how much are you being paid?" "50 daners." Roland gave an odd look to her, "Really? Is that is all?" He was sort of insulted. "What do you mean that's all?" Roland shrugged, "It seems like a rather…small amount." "You think that's small?" Roland then looked at his shield, and said "Especially for an assassin of your caliber."

The girl just looked at Roland, happy that her victim would complement his assassin. Then he added, "and I mean, 50 daners… it's not a whole lot of money…is it? At least to me at least, I mean I would have paid you more…" Now girl didn't know what to think, the man had turned from complementing her to what she believed was an insult. It was hurtful. "You do seem rather young to be an assassin, how old are you?" "Why do you care?" Roland shrugged, "It just doesn't seem to be a "safe" career for a young girl." "So? I like it."

"Well it's not a steady work, is it, and I mean how long can you live off of 50 daners?" "Long enough," retorted the girl, then she shook her head annoyed at the questions, "what are you getting at?"

"Well, look I really don't want to kill a girl if I can help it. And you seem pretty determined to kill me… unless if you are willing to take an better offer?" The assassin look unimpressed. "So you don't want to die and are trying to weasel your way out of it." Roland shook his head, "Why would I "weasel" out of a fight I could win? You and I know this fight could go either way." The girl then retorted, "But why would someone like you offer to hire me?"

Roland shrugged, "I guess it would be a great asset hiring an assassin. I mean having someone who knows how an assassin thinks might come in handy one day." The girl then stopped and stared at Roland. She seemed one step away from believing him. But then she shook it away, "Look I don't know what you are playing at! Why should I trust you?" Roland nodded it was a good point. He then threw his shield to the side and his sword. He was now completely disarmed, he then put the arms to his side, "Do you believe me now?"

The red haired girl looked at the shield and sword, and then she looked at Roland confused. She saw no motivation behind him doing that, other then the one he gave her. She then lowered her knives, "Alright I believe you…" Then she asked impatiently, "So how much will I get paid?" "It will be weekly, and I guess we should settle on a price…" Wouldn't want to underpay the assassin now. The young girl then put the knives, and said, "It would be nice getting paid regularly for a change."

Roland smiled, "I never caught your name." "It's Klethi." Smiled the girl. Roland then extending his hand and laughed, "Glad you didn't kill me." Klethi looked at the open hand with suspicion still. "It's not going to bite you." Comforted Roland. Slowly Klethi took his hand and they shook.

As soon as they shook, three men popped out of a nearby alley with weapons drawn. "Oi, I knew she was no good." "Should have turned her inta the guard when we had the chance." "We can still, but first we gotta kill him."

Roland looked at Klethi, "your employers?" She gave a small nod. Roland sighed and quickly picked up his shield, but he could not see his sword, and left in on the ground. Then he removed one of Klethi's throwing knives and handed it her. "Want to help me take care of them?"

She took the knife and smiled, "It won't be too hard." Then the three ruffians charged at the two of them. Klethi quickly threw her knife and hit one of the ruffians in the shoulder. He stopped in his tracks and fell to the ground. The other two were targeting Roland who readied his shield. Both bandits hit the shield hard with their hatchets. As they pulled back to try again, Roland lowered his shoulder and lunged at the two of them with his shield. He shield bashed the two of them, and they had to stagger back to regain their balance. As they recovered, Klethi can in strong with her knives and began to stab away at on of the ruffian to the right, leaving the one on the left to Roland.

Roland wasted no time and lunged his shield into the ruffian again throwing him off balance even further. As Roland stepped ahead, he felt something metal under his foot he looked down and was able tot see the outline of his blade. Without hesitation Roland pick up the sword and rushed over to the one ruffian and swing his blade hard on his shoulder. The ruffian fell to the ground and remained motionless. One down.

Roland then turned and saw Klethi struggling against one of the ruffians. She had killed the other, but the one she thought was dead from her knife throw, had played dead until she had turned her back to him. He now had his arm around her neck and was suffocating her. As she was suspended about two feet in the air, she kicked frantically and was grabbing the man's arm trying to pry a little space for her to breath. But it was a loosing battle. And she was running out of air quick.

Roland then had to act fast if he wanted to keep the assassin alive. And the man seemed ready to use her as his own hostage shield. Putting his sword away, he then without really thinking grabbed one of Klethi's throwing knives and took aim for the bandit's head. He didn't think about how he should throw it, all he could think about was throwing it. He would up, curling his arm over his shoulder and then let it go.

The knife seemed to fly flawlessly through the air, towards it's target. It flew past Klethi's face and lightly cut her right cheek, but it hit it's intended target with a great force, directly into the forehead of the man. The ruffian then tilted his head back up in pain, holding on to his conscious. After a brief pause the man was gone, and his body lost all energy and he dropped Klethi as he fell to the ground dead. Klethi fell to the ground and held her hands to her throat, and began to gasp and cough for air. When her breathing steadied, Roland helped her up.

"Thanks," she said looking at him grateful. "I didn't know you could through knives so well." "Neither did I," said Roland taking another knife off of his shield and handing it to her. "That was my first time throwing one." "What?" Asked Klethi surprised. Roland shrugged, "Must have been luck."

Klethi shook her head, "Must be." Then she quickly glanced around, "hey do you think we could get out of here. I'd really rather not run into any guards right now."

Roland remembered that the ruffians motioned something like that. "Why what did you do?" Klethi then shook her head, "Not now, first we gotta get to safety. Ok?" Roland sighed. Reluctantly he then led to the inn that he and the rest of the wolves were staying.

Present day.

The Wolves had reached the city of Shariz and like before had camped outside so they could avoid meeting an Emir who could identify Haydee for whom she was. But the wolves needed supplies, and the city was one of the only places the Wolves could get what they needed.

In the city, Roland and Klethi were paired up to hunt for supplies. As they walked through the city, something triggered in Roland's mind to recall the first night he saw Klethi and compared her to now. She had gotten rid of the plain dress and now wore a nice suit of leather armor, with a dark blue surcoat on top. Personally she had grown more trusting, and less of a loner then she was in the beginning when she joined. Like everyone else, she had changed, in her case for the better.

In the middle of the city a group of performers were doing their acts to a large crowd. As they walked by, Klethi noticed a knife thrower, and stopped to watch. Roland walked a few feet until he noticed that Klethi had stopped. He looked back and saw Klethi mesmerized by the knife thrower throwing knives at pieces of fruit.

"See something you like," asked Roland. Klethi shrugged, "Just admiring a fellow assassin…" "You mean the knives thrower." "Yeah, it's a good cover…" Roland then realized what she was implying, and dropped the question. As she watched, she then had a felling of nostalgia, remembering her days before the Wolves. Still in her daze, she walked right beside the knife throwers, took his knifes and did her little ritual to the knives. In half the time it took the knife thrower to aim, she had split all of the pieces of fruit in half. Proud with herself, she then walked away from the knife thrower. Roland then walked beside her, "Why did you do that?"

Klethi shrugged, "Just to know that I can still do it." "Was there ever any doubt?" "It's just comforting to know…" He shrugged, all she wanted was the piece of mind, it was understandable.

"Do you ever miss being an assassin?" Asked Roland. "Sort of," admitted Klethi, "I do miss the excitement and the challenge that each individual target brought. But when we fight, it is a nice replacement. A different challenge."

"Would you go back?" Asked Roland. While when she first came to the troop, she had some baggage that needed some getting used to. She was very superstitious, to the point of the fault. Often when she entered a town's gates she had to run to both sides to the gate's walls and kiss them within a day, if not she believed her experience in the city would be unfortunate. While her many beliefs were strange at first, the group eventually got used to them. Some times the men would play tricks on her using her superstitions. They had to be careful, and not upset her; the last thing they wanted was to anger an out of work assassin. Her retaliation could be deadly.

"Maybe one day, but for now… I'm content here." Then she laughed, "Ya know… for the longest time I thought you were some sort of witch." "What?" "Mm, hm" nodded Klethi. "I often thought that you were practicing black magic in your tent some nights… and then I would plot how I could kill you." Roland just stared blankly at the red haired girl, lost in how blunt she was… "What about now?" She shrugged, "At first, I was unsure what to do… but after getting used to you, I decided that you were a good witch. One who uses his magic for good." "Uhh…" Roland didn't know how to reply, "Thanks?" But then he sighed, "At least you are not plotting to kill me any more."

"Oh," said Klethi as a matter of fact, "I still am. I'd kill anyone of the price was right." Then she corrected herself, "Except Deshavi, I promised to helped her sometime in the future, but everyone else, yeah if the price is right."

Roland couldn't say anything, in a way it didn't surprise him, but he could not believe how open she was about it. "If the price was right?" "Yeah," said Klethi happily. Then the question came out of Roland before he could ponder it, "How much would it take for me." Klethi then scratched her head in thought, "Hmm, that's tough…" then she shrugged, "I cannot give an exact number, but all I can say that it will be a lot. There aren't many good witches like you, so the price better be good."

It was somewhat comforting to know that it would take a lot of money to motivate Klethi to end his life. "Well that's useful to know… just promise me that you will give me fair warning when you are given an offer." "Roland," smiled Klethi, "I can only say that you will be the first and the last one to know…" And with that she turned up the street and began to skip as she walked, humming a tune to herself.

Roland just stared at the red haired girl carelessly moving up the dusty street. Then out a dark alley a black cat jumped out of it and ran in front of Klethi. As soon as she saw the cat, the assassin jumped back in fear and fell into a water trough behind her getting her covered in water. The sight made Roland chuckle. Despite her blunt statements and calm attitude toward killing the other Wolves, he could find it in him to hate her. She was Klethi the superstitious assassin, and she was a Wolf.


	16. The Scars of Old and New

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Scars of Old and New

The Wolves were now riding along with the sea to their left. They were now technically out of the desert and here enjoying the cooling winds that came from the sea. They were close, so close to finally being free of avoiding castles, cities and villages. So close in achieving there objective that was taking more then half a month to do. So close, all they had to do now was hug the sea line until they reached the mountain ranges, then the Wolves would turn north and hopefully meet up with Henderson's men by tomorrow. The rescue was almost over, then the Wolves could return to the regular traveling.

Roland smiled to himself; it was a relief to be out of the desert. Just getting out of the desert gave its own kind of relief and reassurance that they out of danger, for the most part, all though that was far from the truth. Once they passed through the north, they would be entering no man's land in the war between the Rhodoks and the Sultanate. Anything could happen there. One side could see them as enemy and give chase. And rather then listen to reason, they were more then likely to let their swords will do the talking. Or even worst, they could draw both sides and have to fight a battle against two sides, both professional armies. The Wolves could not afford to be careless here.

By midday, the Wolves had reached the beginning of the Rhodok Mountains between Jamiche Castle and Hawaha. When they reached there, Roland then ordered the Wolves to make camp. He wanted them to wait here until nightfall, and then they would head north with the cover the night. It would be the easiest way to avoid a fight and see any camps that the armies made for the night. They all agreed to the plan and made camp for the rest of the day, but they didn't fully set up camp, just enough to keep them busy until nightfall.

As they waited, Roland started to walk around the camp, checking to see if everything was in order. While walking, he came across the bard Perry, sitting on a barrel strumming his lute, trying to tune it. As he walked by, Perry then noticed Roland and then began to strum his lute singing:

_Oh, the brave knight Roland proved is skill,_

_By beating a man who was equal with swill,_

_The spiteful tactician was left and exiled, _

Roland merely scoffed at Perry's attempt to butter him up, and continued walking without any hesitation. But Perry then turned his face to keep his voiced directed toward Roland,

_By the brave hansom man full of guile._

"Keep singing, Perry." Said Roland telling off Perry.

As he passed through the camp, he saw Haydee near the edge of camp staring back toward the desert. He walked behind and joked, "Homesick already?" Haydee half turned around and laughed, "Yeah… if you can believe it…" She then shook her head in disbelief, "It's strange, traveling through there, the entire time it felt foreign to me. No longer welcoming." Then she looked over to Roland, "Like it was no longer my home."

"Were you expecting it to be?" She shook her head, "I do not know Roland… I guess I expected to feel like it felt before I ran away. To feel like my place of belonging, but one that I could never belong to again. But it didn't. It felt different…" She shook her head, "I don't know how to explain it."

Then Roland stepped up and helped her, "like you work your life to muster up the ability to go back. And then when you have the opportunity to go, you no longer want to… like it no longer appeals to you. Like your favorite food is no longer tasty to you. You don't know how it came about, but now you no longer care to return like you once did." Haydee nodded, "Yeah, exactly…"

Roland nodded, he felt the same way about going home. When he had first arrived in Calradia, he had hoped for a speedy return home, but now he was less enthusiastic. Three years had passed since he left the world he called home… he was now 22 years old and in command of his own troop of mercenaries. There was no motivation to go back, and in the three years were he was gone, what could he say to his friends and family to the time spent? Would they believe him if he told them the truth? A person could not disappear for a long period of time and expect to return without any sort of the consequences back home.

"I know what you are going through, Haydee." Roland said turning to her. Expect, his was a bit more complicated. He then shook his head and force it out of his mind, "But it's something we have to work out ourselves." Haydee nodded, she felt comforted knowing she was not alone. And then Roland turned and made is way back into camp to check on Jeremus, as he did he passed Perry again, who again tried to woo him with his singing. And again failed.

Night came as it always did, and the Wolves broke camp and started to head north, traveling very slowly. Roland calculated that they could afford to slow way down at night to avoid patrols and still manage to reach the waste land by morning. As they rode, they sent several different patrols to scout all around them to look out for any formation of men so the Wolves could avoid them. Slowly the Wolves crept along the deserted land between the Rhodoks and the Sarrdak, keeping their eyes open on the look out for anything. Roland had to cautious, it was harder to navigate at night and this was the one time he could not afford to get the wolves lost. Often checking and rechecking the direction they were heading, Roland leading them north.

As morning came, the sun revealed the land around the Wolves. When they saw where they were, the group let out a collective sigh of relief; they were on the edge of the wasteland, unclaimed territory. They had made it.

Roland was grinning widely, he was quite pleased with himself. Not many people could do what he did. Going deep into a nation's land, rescuing a prisoner in a dungeon without killing a guard, going through a desert while avoiding any Emir and keeping a wanted heir to the thrown safe. Not many people could say they did that. He had every right to be happy.

Then in the corner of his eye he caught sight of something. Towards his right in the direction of Weyyah Castle, Roland caught sight of something yellow in the distance. At first he was to happy and passed it off as apart of the morning glow. But he continued to look at it and it still drew is curiosity. Until he had a frightening thought, and he panicked. Pulling out his binoculars he then focused in on the yellow. "Deshavi!" He yelled, "To me! NOW!" Out of the mass of people, the dark skinned archer rode to his side. He then passed the binoculars to her and said, "tell me what you see." She took the binoculars, and began to scan the horizon. She then stopped in one spot and focused on it. After a few moments, she lowered the binoculars and confirmed Roland's fears, "It's the Sultanate, sir."

Every feeling of triumph that Roland had now that the Wolves were at the wasteland had vanished. Slowly panic and fear took its place. "Are you sure?" Roland knew he didn't need to ask, but he did anyway. She nodded, she was never wrong. Behind them, Henderson rode up and asked, "What is it Roland?" "It seems like the Sultanate has caught up with us some how." "What?! How could they know that?" Roland shook his head, "I cannot say Henderson. But it's best that we don't stick around to ask them. We have to get moving." Then he added, "Hopefully your men are in position and you can escort us out." "Indeed," agreed Henderson.

Roland then turned to Deshavi, "I want you to hang back and keep an eye on them, when you figure out their speed and direction ride back immediately and report!" She nodded, "Got it." Roland then turned, dismounted and ordered the hastening of the troop. After he barked the order, Haydee rode up to him and dismounted too. There was a scared look on her face, she had guessed what Roland saw. "Roland…" "We have not been captured yet, Haydee." Said Roland reassuring her, "For all we know, they could be heading to a battle or something of the like. They might not even catch up to us."

"Sir," interrupted Deshavi. "I can see two distinct banners." "What do they look like?" She then looked though the binoculars, (still in her possession), again and described what she saw. "One is a yellow banner, with a red crescent moon and a flame coming though the middle." "That's the Sultan's banner!" Said Haydee. "Easy," said Roland trying to calm her, "he could have been in the field for battle and still not know you are here." She nodded and asked, "And the other, Deshavi?" "The other… it an orange banner with red boarder and a yellow snake in the middle." Roland then looked at Haydee to tell them who it was. But this time she was pale, frozen in fear, "That's Emir Dhashwal's banner!"

Roland then knew there was no need to leave Deshavi behind; he knew their intentions, and who they were looking for. "Deshavi," Roland said, "there will be no need for you to hang back. Get back to the troop. But stay in the rear and keep an eye on them." The archer nodded, and rode off. Roland then looked at Haydee still pale and shivering. He couldn't pass this off as a freak coincidence; even he couldn't buy that excuse. They knew. It was the only possible explanation.

Roland walked over to Haydee, and put both of his hands on her shoulder. "We won't let them get you. I promise." But she pushed them away, tears filling her eye. "You promise," then she took a spiteful tone through her tears, "you promised that we wouldn't have to go through the Sarrdak! You promised that know one else would know my secret! You promised that they would never find out I was here. And you promised that they would never catch us!" Then she turned towards Roland and added through her tears, "so forgive me if I have trouble believing your "promises"!" She then turned and kneeled to the ground sobbing. "I can't believe anymore promises, Hardeth promised me he would be fine and he's dead!" She then shook her head, "Maybe you should just leave me here for them to find."

Roland just stared at her in silence, she had reverted back to the girl that he first found. Scared and full of tears. He sighed, walked over to her and held his hand out to help her up. "I never promised that we wouldn't have to go through the desert. I never promised that your secret would remain hidden. And I never promised that they wouldn't find out about you. What I promised was that they would never get you. And as you can see they haven't yet, and I intend to keep that promise." Haydee then looked at Roland, but then turned her back to him.

Roland sighed, "Alright Hayah Deema, stay here. Be a martyr, be the cause of your family name's extinction. It's your choice." "What did you call me?' She then looked up to Roland, he had called her by her real name. "My name is…" "Oh I know what you call yourself." Said Roland folding his arms. "But I know Haydee to be a wolf, one that would fight while she could and still run until she was cornered. Not a girl that sobs and gives up. Not Hayah Deema." He then turned around, and looked back at the approaching army, still far off in the desert. "She must still be in the desert somewhere, and it seems she might stay there." Then he turned back to Haydee, "Or maybe she will pop again. The girl that was not afraid to face her past. But I hope she does that soon, before leave." Then he turned to walk away back to his horse.

Every step away from the girl he felt himself getting sick with guilt. But what could he do? It was her choice, not his. He did the best to remind her of her former self and who she was now. "Roland!" Came a determined voice from behind him. He turned and saw the girl slowly stand and wipe the tears from her eye and her nose. Then she looked at Roland and said, "Let's get going." Roland smiled; he saw the fire in her eyes that he remembered Haydee having. "Good to see you again, Haydee." She smiled, "Thank you for reminding me who I was." "You're welcome," smiled Roland then he walked to his horse saying, "Now if you excuse me, I have a promise to keep!"

The rest of day, the Wolves spent running form the Sarranid Army. Despite having more men then the Wolves and less mounted personal, the Army was able to narrow the gap between them and the troop. By the early noon, the troop could visibly see to two armies in the distance behind them. Roland often checked on Haydee who gave Roland a reassuring nod, she was much better. Still nervous but not scared, now she was able to quench her tears. She was no longer afraid. Which was a good step.

As they continued, Alayen came riding back to Roland excited. "Sir! We can see a mass of troops ahead! Purple and white! They are Henderson's colors!" So they did make it in time, thought Roland. "Very good! You here that men! Almost there!" He then looked at Haydee and said, "We're going to make it!" She smiled.

Within a half an hour, the Wolves had reached Henderson's men. And were greeted with cheers and praises. Now they could breath easy, the Sultanate wouldn't dare attack now. The combined force of Henderson's men and the Wolves would prove more then a challenge to the army. Also the Sultan could not afford to spark a war between the Sarranid Sultanate and the Kingdom of Swadia. Not with the present war going on.

Now safe, the men begun to relax and Roland decided it would be best to set up camp beside the Count's men. As he ordered them to, he noticed Haydee was again on the edge of the camp, staring at the Sultan's army. Presently it appeared that they were setting up to camp for a short time. Perhaps they were waiting to see if the Wolves and the Count's men to split and then they could resume chasing the Wolves. It was not clear.

Roland then walked up beside Haydee; he saw fire in her eyes. Focused in on the camp. "He's there, my Uncle. I know it." "Yeah," agreed Roland looking at the camp, then he smiled and looked at Haydee. "You beat him, he's lost. He can't get you now." She didn't react, but kept her gaze constant, then she turned to Roland and said clearly and firmly, "I want to see him."

"She said what?" Asked Henderson. He and Roland were in Henderson's tent. "She wants to see her Uncle the Sultan. "To face the man who destroyed my family" as she put it." Henderson gave a low grown, "Ahh… why now? Why does it have to be now?" "Because it might be the only time she can. Henderson, right now the Sultan is less then a mile away with only his army and another Emir. This is the only time she can meet him on equal ground, with you, your men and the Wolves on the other side of the battle to his men." Henderson could see the logic it was an opportune time for Haydee to confront her uncle. "And what if he refuses?" "Then I told her she could not pursue it any further. If he doesn't want to show that is his choice."

Henderson toyed with the idea in his head, sighing deeply he caved in. "Alright, how were you thinking of doing this?" "By a rendezvous in the middle of the two armies, in the open and in plain sight of every one." Henderson nodded, "Ok, and who would go out there with her?" "Myself, Jeremus a few Wolves," then he smiled, "and you." "Don't include me," said Henderson, "this is your brainchild." "Henderson," started Roland, "Don't you want to see what happens between Haydee and her Uncle? Besides this might be a good way to improve relations with the Sultan." "Or it could ruin my relations with him." "Hey I said might, there never is a guarantee. But aren't you the least bit curious." Roland had hit the nail on the head, Henderson did want to see what would happen. "Alright I'm in. But you have to set it up. I will serve as some sort of middleman. Hopefully the Sultan will buy that…"

After an hour of messages back and forth between the two camps, the two side managed to agree to a meeting of sorts. The Sultan would send a representative into the middle of the two camps and in turn the wolves would do the same. After settling on a time, Roland then rode out with a few men to meet the representative. Riding out to the middle of the two armies, he found the other representative already waiting for him. As he rode closer, he saw the banner that he carried on his surcoat, it was the one from before, the orange banner with a yellow snake. Emir Dhashwal.

As he reached the meeting both agreed, Roland ordered his men to remain behind. He dismounted and walked into the middle of the two parties, the leader of the other party did the same. As they meet in the middle, Roland look hard at he other person. He was about thirty, big, tan and completely bald, with a dark scruff covering his mouth and cheeks. As he looked at the man, an aura seemed to radiated from him, "menacing". He had an wicked smile on his face and is eyes seemed to glow with excitement, as if the prospect of death excited him.

The two finally met in the middle, and the other started. "After all I heard about you, I expected you to be… older. Roland of the Wolves." "And you are?" Asked Roland crossing his arms. "Emir Dhashwal." Roland half expected it. "I have come by the will of the Sultan to demand that you turn the girl over to us." "Why does he want her?" "That is the Sultan's will. I am not to question it." Roland looked at him unfazed, "We cannot except that. Haydee is no longer a threat to the Sultan, Why would she need to turn her self in?" "She is still of noble blood, and therefore is a candidate for the Sultanate. The Sultan cannot afford to let her be a threat to him." "Then I purpose this: let the Sultan meet us here, and see for himself the girl that would threaten his throne." "He won't come," said the Emir smiling. Roland looked at the bald man, it sounded like the Emir would make sure of that. "Really? He will not come even if Count Henderson of Swadia and Roland of the Wolves make an appearance?" Roland then narrowed his eyes, "You tell him to come out here, and face the girl he is so frightened of." He then spun around mounted his steed and rode back to the camp. Leaving the Emir and his men in the middle of the two armies.

An hour passed, and there was no movement in the other camp. Roland began to worry that he had scared off the Sultan, ruining Hadyee's chance to finally face her fears. "What exactly did you say, Roland?" Asked Henderson, hinting that Roland might have said to much. "Enough to get him to comply, look," said Roland pointing toward the other camp. There was movement between the ranks, and a yellow banner with a red crescent and flame appeared at the edge of the camp. The Sultan was coming. "Better get ready," suggested Henderson.

Roland nodded, "Klethi!" the red haired girl walked beside Roland, he then handed her the binoculars "don't lose these. Keep an eye on us. Make sure an assassin does not surprise us. Deshavi, have the archers standing by and ready on the edge of the camp. Alayen, have the Wolves mount up. Should we get in trouble, I want you to charge in and get us out of there!" The three of them nodded and went to there post. "A bit overkill?" Asked Henderson. Roland shrugged, "better safe then sorry." He then looked over at Haydee who was on her horse staring at the enemy camp. She then looked at Roland and gave a ready nod. He returned the nod and looked forward. Then together, Roland, Henderson, Haydee, and Jeremus along with two Wolves and two of Henderson's body guards rode forward toward the meeting point. Haydee was going to see her Uncle.

Roland and the others arrived second to the meeting point. As they got closer, Roland could see the Emir standing beside a figure in flawless Sarranid armor, and with a brightly colored surcoat with the Sultan's emblem on it. It was Sultan Hakim, ruler of the Sarrdak desert. He had a long combed brown beard and a serious face. It was Roland's first time seeing the Sultan. He had met most of the other kings at least once in his travels, but he never really visited the desert that often to see the Sultan. Also when Haydee was recruited, the Wolves tended to avoid the Sarranid Desert. This would be his first introduction to him.

As they dismounted fifty feet away and began to walk toward the gathering, Roland noticed another figure on the opposite side of the Emir. It was Lezalit, with is right arm held in a sling. So that's how they found us, concluded Roland. He informed the Emir who then tattled to the Sultan. "Bastard," Roland said under his breath to Lezalit, but it was too quiet for anyone especially Lezalit to hear. Looking at him, Lezalit smiled victoriously. In the end had had managed to find a way to make Roland suffer. This was payback for him.

As the seven walked up to the Sultan's party, Roland glanced at Haydee who was staring fiercely at the Sultan her uncle. Roland found it amazing, several hours ago she was crying in fright of seeing him. Now not so much of a shiver left her staring at her uncle. Quite the transformation, by far. She then stopped ten feet from her uncle an just watched him with her one eye. After a moment of staring, she broke the silence, "Hello, uncle…"

The Sultan remained quiet, just stared at her. She certainly was different, she had grown taller from the last time he had seen her. She also seemed more physically fit, from all the years of mercenary work be guessed. Her hair also was much shorter, almost boyish. Before she had long flowing hair that went down to her waist, now that was gone. And finally there was the scar over her closed eye: the most prominent feature of her face. She had changed, the Sultan could see that.

Emir Dhashwal answered for the Sultan, "His Excellency would like you to realized that this meeting was agreed to because of the fact that Roland agreed to turn Haydee over him." "I never agreed to anything of the sort, Emir." Retorted Roland. Then the Emir smiled, "Then we have no reason to be here." Then he turned to Haydee, "Unless she wants to." Roland then exchanged glances between the two. What is he planning, thought Roland. The Emir was hoping that she herself would turn herself in.

Haydee then stared at the Emir, and smiled, "No Emir Dhashwal, I'm afraid you are mistaken about me." Then she walked a few steps towards him, and said almost boasting but staying humble about it, "You'll find that I am not the weak willed girl I once was."

But the Emir just smiled, he still had a few buttons he could press. "Come now," he said closing the space between the two of them, until he was directly in front of her. "Every one knows a family less girl could never be anything but weak." The way he said it was more like he was stating a fact rather then insulting her, but it still did. Then he continued, "I mean your family was already weak willed as it was with your father betraying the Sultan. So it only makes sense, a weak willed man bores—" he got no further. _Smack._ Haydee slapped him.

"Ohh!" Exclaimed Klethi looking through the binoculars. She was lying in the grass watching the meeting take place. "What, what happened?" She turned and saw Ymira lying right beside her. "Haydee slapped the bald man!" "Who?" Asked Ymira lost, "Jeremus?" "No" said Klethi, "the bald Sultan guy." "She slapped the Sultan?" Klethi was now annoyed, "No, just be quiet." She then returned to the scene. The Ymira tried to grab the binoculars. "Let me see."

Emir Dhashwal slowly turned his head and looked back to Haydee. The slap was a complete surprise to him, and through him off guard. Behind them, the Sultan gave a small smile after seeing the Emir getting slapped. Roland and Henderson noticed it, but no one else saw it. Did he enjoying the Emir slapped? The Emir on the other had was less then enthused, "Why you little—" _Smack._ She slapped him again. After two slaps, the Emir had enough. He then pulled a small dagger and took a swung at Haydee, but she was too quick and stepped back to avoid it. She would have drawn her weapon but she was stopped by the Sultan, breaking his muteness. "Emir Dhashwal! Control yourself!" The Emir looked at the Sultan, who now had a serious look on his face. "You draw a weapon when none of them have. Return it to its sheath. Now." "But sire." Protested the Emir, "She harmed me by slapping me!" "I would have slapped you myself, if you said that to me. Now, sheath your dagger." Then his tone became stricter, "I will not ask again." Reluctantly the Emir lowered his danger and returned it to his to its scabbard.

The Sultan then turned and looked at Haydee, "If you did not want to see me to turn yourself over, then why this request?" Haydee looked at her uncle, "I wanted to see the man who wanted me dead all those years ago. The one who sent the assassin for me after a month of leaving the desert." Roland nodded, as she said, about a month later a hired killer had ambushed her in a city. While Haydee was able to defend herself, she did not escape without a wound. The killer had given Haydee her scar over her eye, and had made her deathly afraid of her Uncle.

Haydee stared at her uncle, there was no change of emotions. Not even the slightest twitch on his face. "Uncle, why did you do it? Resort to a paid killer. Never once did you dirty your hands with hired killers in your reign. You publicly denounced assassins while you used them for me! You never sent a killer to Castle Hattin but brought your army to deal with it yourself. That's why I wanted to see you, I want to know why!"

The Emir then stepped between her and the Sultan, "His Excellency doesn't have to answer anything to a traitor!" "Emir Dhashwal, stand aside," commanded Sultan Hakim, "I want to answer her." He then took a step forward, and stared firmly into Haydee's eye.

"I never sent an assassin, Hayah Deema." He said explaining, "Your father and brothers swore that you had perished in the castle when I captured them. I though you were dead, until yesterday when Emir Dhashwal told me you were sneaking through the desert." Haydee looked to her uncle confused look, "What?"

The Sultan nodded, "I never knew you made it out of the siege at Hattin…"

Haydee looked at her uncle, his face seemed to be truthful. But then she shook the claim aside, "No! You sent men! You hired an assassin!" "I never did…" "Beg pardon, Sultan." Interrupted Roland, both of them looked at him. "When I rescued Haydee about three years ago, she was being pursued by Sultanate manhunters." He then looked around, "In fact it was right around here we ran into them. They had even mentioned a bounty for the girl, 5000 daners. Sir. It is hard to believe that someone did not know about her being alive."

The Sultan shook his head, "I sent no manhunters, or any of the sort. I believed the civil war was over with the deaths of my brother and his sons. Besides, I would not know were she was going, how could I send riders to intercept her?"

Roland looked at Emir Dhashwal. He noticed that his forehead was covered in sweat. And he seemed on edge. Why is he nervous? Thought Roland. Then a thought in is mind clicked, "Sultan Harkin, who was in charge of pursuing the remaining rebel armies after you captured your brother?" The Sultan raised an eyebrow, "it was Emir Dhashwal."

"Haydee, you said that Emir Dhashwal was a "co conspirator" with your father, correct?" "Yes." "Could your father have told the Emir about the secret passage in Castle Hattin. And the significance of Saren?" Haydee then realized what he was leading to, "Yes. He did share those secrets with the Emir." Then the three of them looked at the Emir, who looked nervous, "What utter nonsense!" He said in protest.

"Strange," said the Sultan recalling the events of the rebellion. "I thought you had informed me that you never conversed with my brother before you talked him into surrendering into your custody." Then the Sultan turned and face the Emir, "It's also strange that the same amount that I rewarded you for my brother's capture would be the same amount offered for my niece." By now, the Emir had enough. "I will not stand here and be accused!" He then stormed over to his horse, mounted the steed and then rode back to the camp.

The rest of the group watched in silenced as the Emir rode off. "So he did it…" said Haydee. "It seems so…" agreed Roland. Haydee then turned to her uncle, "Uncle…" she swallowed hard, this was difficult for her, "I'm sorry."

The Sultan then turned to his niece and smiled lightly. "It is fine… it was not your fault for blaming me. We were all deceived." He then looked at her, "I never hated you, Hayah Deema. I had often hoped you would have survived. It was not your fight that you were wrapped in, but your father's and brothers'. You had nothing to do with it."

"Thank you, uncle." Then she corrected him, "But my name is no longer Hayah Deema, it's Haydee." He smiled, "Alright." He then asked, "Now what will you do?" She then looked at her uncle and then to Roland and smiled, "I am a Wolf or didn't you know? I will stay on with them."

The Sultan then looked at Roland, "Ah so this is the famous Roland. I was hoping to meet you one day." The Sultan caught sight of Henderson in the background, "Count Henderson," said the Sultan giving a slight nod. Henderson then returned the favor, "Sultan Harkin." Roland sensed a history between the two of them. No doubt from the previous war.

With that the Sultan noticed the sun, it was beginning to set on the group. "I must give my apologies, but I am far from my land, and I should get back." He then turned and began to walk back to his horse. As he did, Lezalit (forget about him?) then interrupted him. "Sire! What about your niece? She might lay claim to the throne, you need to get rid of her!"

He then looked back and said, "As fair as I am concerned, Hayah Deema, niece of the Sultan and heir to the throne died at Castle Hattin. All that remains is Haydee, a Wolf of Calradia with no claim to the Sultanate." Then he smiled, "And a welcomed guest at the Sultanate court." He then mounted his horse, and looked down at Haydee, "Farewell and best of luck, Haydee of the Wolves." She then smiled and lightly bowed, "Farewell, Sultan Harkin."

The Sultan then spurred his horse and he and his guards were off toward there camp. Leaving Lezalit alone with the others. He was furious. Roland smiled widely, "Well Lezalit, funny how things work out, huh?" Lezalit clenched his teeth. "You…" Roland just laughed and said, "You lose, again." By then Lezalit had enough. He then struggled back on his horse, and rode off after the others.

Haydee stood there almost in a daze, lost in the moment. The outcome was far what she expected, and more beneficial for her part then she could have ever hoped. Then her daze was broken by Roland's hand plopping on her shoulder. She turned and saw his beaming face, "Cheer up Haydee! It's over!" Slowly the fact crept into her mind, and she began to smile widely. Then she began to laugh, when she finished she said, "Yeah it's over."

As they were riding back to camp, Jeremus rode up beside Roland. "I'm not sure if you noticed sir, but did you look at Lezalit's arm?" Roland shook his head, he was more focused on just him being their then the injury he gave him. "Well I did, it seems you might have did more then break the arm. I believe you killed it." "What?" "I mean that arm my never move again. When I saw it I noticed it was turning green, a sign of flesh rot, its dead sir. Unless he sees a good physician and gets it mended, he will have to get it cut off." Roland then felt a little guilt swell up inside him. He wanted to hurt him, not make him lose a limb. "Cheer up sir," said Jeremus, "If anyone deserved to loose an arm it's him. Besides the only way flesh rot can really happen is as if he tired to use it a lot after you broke it. It's his own damn fault for making the flesh rot happen in the first place." Jeremus smiled, "so don't feel guilty over him."

When Roland and the others arrived back in camp, they saw Ymira and Klethi sitting outside Jeremus's tent, both with black eyes and looking cross with each other. In between then was Katrin with a ladle and Roland's pair of binoculars. "What happened here?!" Asked Roland. Alayen then walked up to him and started, "Well sir it all started—" he was cut short by Klethi and Ymira shouting in unison, "Alayen, be quiet or I will kill you!"

Roland then laugh, "No need to risk your throat, Alayen. I have a pretty good guess what happened." "Thank you sir," said Alayen relived, "I take it the meeting went well." "Far better then expectations, Alayen. Which is something that does not happen often." "So Haydee is ok?" He smiled, "Yes, she is better now."

-End Notes-

The Sultan, Friend or Foe?

When I envisioned this story line I was pretty sure that the Sultan was to be the main antagonist in this arc. But the more I thought about it, the more I disliked it. Not the idea of a monarch hating the wolves but the side effects of the disliking. As in the fact that Roland and the Wolves could not go into the desert without trouble and would probably avoid it just didn't sit well with me. So I passed off the grudge to the Emir. It seemed like the best thing to do and to me it worked.

The Next Chapter

For those of you who can't guess which origin story it will be. It's Haydee's second part. It will officially mark the end of Haydee's family crisis, for now.

Ymira's and Klethi "Scuffle"

I hope I was not stepping out of line, but I needed a form of comic relief in the chapter other then Roland's lines, so I came up with that.

Two Day Update.

Ok, it is weird I admit but for what ever reason I really wanted to get this story done and it only took me two days! Nice waste of a weekend!

Cheers!

Indogma!


	17. The Loss and Gain of a Home

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Loss of a Home, and the Gain of Another

Haydee's Story, Pt. 2

Recruitment/Origin Story. (I think I have called them both… and I guess it doesn't matter).

* * *

The city of Reyvadin was quiet, still, in the final moments of twilight. The shops had long since closed and the people were in their homes, finishing up their meals or preparing to turn in. People often said: "only those who were in the streets this late were drunk or up to no good." However, on the streets Roland and his Wolves were once again disproving the stereotype. They seemed exhausted, and almost all of them were damp and covered in mud. Roland had a frown on his face, the day had been one natural disaster. They had tried to pursue a small band of looters that were notorious for taking women, and Roland wanted to end it. However the group proved to be quicker then Roland predicted. The Wolves lost the looters in the afternoon, and they spent all afternoon trying to find them, with no luck. Giving up the search, Roland then led the Wolves to Reyvadin, and barely got in through the gates before they closed for the night. In fact the Wolves shouldn't have, but Ymira was able to use her merchant skills and feminine charm to convince the guard to let them in for free. He was grateful for that. He didn't want to sleep out on the dirt tonight. And he could tell the men felt the same way.

He looked back at the men, and at some of the new faces. A few days ago Roland had recruited some farm girls after recusing them from a group of bandits. They had nowhere else to return to since the bandits had murdered their husbands, so Roland offered them a job with the Wolves. At first they thought it to be a joke, but when they saw it he was serious they couldn't pass down a means of employment. After a couple days of training they were beginning to shape into decent fighters. Even the seasoned men were impressed with a few days training what they could accomplish, but training did not replace experience. That was one of reasons he wanted to catch up to those looters. He would pit up the women against them for two reasons, first the looters preyed on helpless women, no doubt they would lower their guard seeing a bunch of armed women, and the women would benefit from the fight, (looters are very easy to kill), and fight harder to rid the world of these looters.

Alas the plan did not work to fruition, and the women were still green. Then he glanced over to the other women of the troop. Ymira was pretty much the only one with a head for money in the company. While Roland could do circles around her when it come to math, (a high-school degree can take you places with math, providing you are sent back to the middle ages), she knew what to trade, when and where, something one could merely learn from experience. Then there was Deshavi, the head archer of the troop, despite the fact she was recruited later then the crossbow men. And they did not refute that fact, she could weld a bow and shoot a bull's-eye in a target at a hundred yards away, nine times out of ten— and the tenth would not count because there would be no remaining cloth of the bull's-eye left. Then there was Klethi walking beside Deshavi. In spite her short time being in the troop, her and Deshavi seemed to have become quick friends. She currently served as the group's "assassin" which consisted of her offering advice on how to sneak up on someone. And then there was Haydee. Roland had told the rest of the men that she was a Sarranid girl whose father, Hardeth had been murdered by a group of bandits and that she would travel with them until she found herself a home. Roland assumed most of the men bought it, and they really didn't give her much trouble.

The Wolves proceeded to the closest tavern they could find and rented lodging for the night. They made themselves at home in the inn and settled down for a night of rest. Soon the troop then separated into a few groups. Most of the men sat at tables drinking alcohol, the farm girls just sat together not trying to draw attention, Deshavi and Klethi were sharing a table swapping stories, and Roland, Jeremus, Ymira and Haydee were gathered around Jeremus's Vert board watching a game between Ymira and the surgeon. Roland was still green to the game whenever he tried to play, and always lost. The only real fun was watching someone else play, and the to best games often where between Ymira and Jeremus. Roland had seen Haydee play the game once before, and while she was good she didn't have the experience that Jeremus had, and would often loose.

As the game progressed, a barmaid came along to check in on the table. She was a young woman with midnight black hair, held together by a small wooden braid with the shape of a lily on it and desert sun touched skin, from the Sultanate like Haydee. She came over to the table, noticed Haydee, "Excuse me. I couldn't help but noticing your appearance and your accent, you wouldn't be from the Sultanate, would you?"

Haydee shot a quick glance at Roland, as if to say, "What should I do?" Roland lighted nodded, he could see no harm in talking to her. "Yes, I am," Haydee replied. The barmaid smiled, as if seeing a long-lost friend, "Where from? I am Habba." Haydee had to think quickly on her feet, "Qalyut, my parents served the Sultan's brother at Castle Hattin." "Oh!" Said the girl amazed, "I suppose you have heard what happened to the castle?" Haydee half smiled, "Yes, I have heard." "Shame, terrible shame. Most of the people were fond of Emir Hakem." Haydee smiled, "Yes, he was a good man." The barmaid smiled back, then turned and saw a table with a bunch of angry men signaling her for more ale. "I'd love to chat but I have to go, take care!" And in a flash she left the table. When she was gone, Roland leaned in close and said, "Looks like you made a friend." Haydee didn't answer, just stared after the barmaid.

As the night became darker, most of the Wolves went off to bed. The remaining few were Roland, Jeremus, and Klethi. Haydee, Deshavi and Ymira had gone to bed. Presently Roland and Jeremus were playing another game of Vert while Klethi's interest shifted in and out of the game and one of the patrons of the inn. Roland noticed this but didn't pry, he was too busy trying to plan out his next move. After four moves into the game, Haydee came down from her room, and sat beside Klethi at the table. "Trouble sleeping?" Asked Roland. Haydee nodded, it had been that way ever since she had joined up. No matter how tried she was, she at most could only get a few hours of sleep. Roland sighed, "Try stepping outside, the fresh air might do you some good." Haydee gave a small nod, she was willing to try anything.

When she had left the table, the gamed resumed. For three more turns, there was no interruption until Klethi announced, "Ah, finally, I can go to bed! I'd thought he'd never leave."

"What do you mean "finally"?" Asked Roland.

"Oh, there was a hired killer here tonight, i had my eye on him as soon as he walked into the inn. He seemed like he was waiting for his target, and I wanted to keep any eye on him to be sure it was not one of us. But now that he's gone, I don't have to worry." Roland glanced over to the remaining patron's seat—he **was** gone. "What makes you say that?" Asked Jeremus. "Heh," smiled Klethi, "often paid killers hang around the place were their target his in order to have the best chance to strike." Then she turned to Roland, "I thought he was after you, but it turns out I was wrong." Then she smiled, "I mean there really is no one else in the company worth killing, is there?"

Roland and Jeremus shot a glance at each other, they could name one. Then Klethi yawned, "Anyway, more then likely he hasn't found his target yet. But I'm sure he will act soon. You better hurry if you want to stop him…" Then she turned and went up the stairs. "'Night."

Roland watched her leave with a puzzled look on his face, did she know about Haydee? He then turned to Jeremus, "We better go check on her." "Agreed." And the two of them filed out of the inn abandoning their game. When they closed the inn door behind them, they looked around, Haydee was nowhere to be seen. "Not good," said Roland under his breath. "She couldn't have gone far," observed Jeremus, "besides she could handle herself, we taught her a few things after all." "She's going up against a trained killer, Jeremus. I doubt a few swings in a practice fight are going to cut it. Plus she had just gotten out of bed. I doubt she had her sword on her." Roland looked around. She could be anywhere. "Jeremus you head that way, I'll go this way. Yell if you find her, or him." The surgeon nodded, and took the spear from his back and head it ready for use. Roland drew his sword and walked along the other side.

About five steps away from the inn, Roland could hear something in the next alley way. Struggling? He then heard a women's voice, "Don't you come near her—!" then the voice seemed to have lost its energy and life. Roland then knew he found them. "Jeremus! Over here!" Shouted Roland sprinting into the alley. As he got their he could make out three figures. There were two on the ground, both the size of a young woman. One of them was wheezing heavily gasping for air. The other was quiet. Panic then over came Roland, was he too late?

He then focused on the third figure, a man's profile. "Well, look's like I's got me 'nother one," he said to Roland, "to bad you's gotta die." And the man then dashed madly toward him. But Roland was ready, he held his blade towards the killer, having the guard right under his pinky, and held his free hand on the pommel of the blade. The he rushed toward the man, and then lurched the blade forward, until it struck something. While knives were useful weapons for quick hidden attacks, there was one disadvantage against a sword, their reach. Swords could strike down any assassin long before their knives have any chance of reaching their target. And that was the advantage Roland used. He stood their, with his sword in the killer's body. If the sun were out, Roland would have noticed the pair of knives that were less then an inch from his arms.

The killer then let out stutters of pain, and dropped his knives. Roland then pulled his blade out of him with a quick pull. The man then slowly lean against the wall and slowly slid down it, he was dead before he hit the ground.

Roland sigh out a sigh of relief, but then heard a painful cough from by his feet. "Jeremus! Over here! Now!" He then knelled down and found the girl in pain, he was unsure who it was. It was too dark to tell. She was shivering, and it sounded like she could not breathe. "Oh no, please, god, be alright." After a few seconds Roland saw Jeremus round the corner into he alleyway with a torch in hand. He had "borrowed" it from outside the inn. As the alley way illuminated, Roland then looked at the figure in his arms, it wasn't Haydee, but the barmaid from before. Roland felt relieved, but still concerned. "Jeremus!" He said pointing at the other figure. He nodded and quickly went over to the other figure, which had to be Haydee. He then looked down at the young girl, and forced a smile, "Hey it's going to be all right, you will make it. Ok?" But the girl weakly smiled, she knew he was lying. "Roland!" Roland spun around, "Haydee's alright, she's alive." Roland smiled it was comforting news. He then was going to command Jeremus to come over to here he was and look over the girl, but he then felt the young girl give her final breath in his arms. He then looked down and saw that she had closed her eyes and stopped breathing, she was gone.

Slowly lower her body to the ground, he then walked over to Jeremus and said, "Come on, let's get her back to the inn!" "What about the other one?" Roland took Haydee in his arms and said, "There is nothing we can do now… she's dead." As he picked her up, he look at her face, despite it being bloodied a bruised, it seemed at ease, like she was expecting death. Then Roland noticed a deep cut over her right eye, no doubt from the assassin's blade. "That's gonna leaving a scar…" he said under his breath.

* * *

When Haydee awoke, she felt a heavy pressure on her eyes, like they being weighed down by five pound weights. Then she opened her left eye and found that easier to open then for right eye for some reason. She opened her eyes and found that she was in her room at the inn on her bed. On the edge of the foot of the bed, was the blonde haired Ymira, giving her a smile seeing her awake. "Oh good, you are awake!"

Haydee then slowly leaned up, and asked, "How long have I been here?" "A day or two. Roland decided to stay here until you recovered."

Then she heard a rustling in a bed to her right, "I though it would be best to let you rest for a day, and let your wound heal." Haydee jumped within her skin, she then turned her head sharply to the right and saw Roland standing on the edge of the bed. She had not seen him? Why?

She then put her hand to her face and were her right eye was. It was bandaged, which explained why she could not open it. "You were hit with knife over your eye. Jeremus tells me it's fine, but will take some time to heal."

She then looked down, she then remembered what happened. "It was my uncle…" she said. "What do you mean?" Asked Roland. "My uncle sent him!" Stated Haydee, "He did it. The man was to look for a Sarranid young girl with long flowing black hair and a flawless face! He told me before I blacked out and…" then she remembered, "The barmaid, he used the barmaid to draw me in the alley! You have to help her!"

Roland then looked down to the floor. Then he shook his head grimly, "She didn't make it Haydee… she died that very night." She then looked down at her sheets grimly, "I caused another death…" she thought.

"Could you two please leave?" She politely asked, "I wish to be alone." Roland was hesitant to, but before he could interject Ymira answered for him. "Of course, we will be down stairs if you need us." Then she tugged at Roland's shirt and pulled him out of the room.

When they got outside the room, Roland asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Leaving her alone like this?" Ymira smiled, "It's fine. She just needs time, is all." Roland sighed and rubbed his hair, "I hope your right for her sake." Ymira just smiled wider and started to head down stairs. Roland just sighed again, "I guess she would know more then I." And then walked downstairs as well.

* * *

Haydee spent the next couple of hours in silence and alone. She barely moved an inch as she stared down at her sheets. A pin could drop in the room and make more noise then she did. Then she heard running outside the room. It was fast sprinting as if someone was trying not to get caught. Then the door open and closed suddenly, and Haydee looked up and saw the red haired Klethi surprised to see her in the room, she had expected this room to be empty. She was holding a bundle of apples in her surcoat, holding up the very bottom keeping the apples from rolling out.

Klethi then lifted one finger to her lips to signal her to be quiet. Klethi then placed her ear to the door. Outside in the hallway, there came another step of footsteps, more heavy and with purpose. "Alright, where'd she go?" Haydee recognized the voice as the innkeeper from down stairs. "In here?" Klethi then cursed under her breath, "Blast!" Thinking quickly, she then darted to the other bed and whispered to Haydee, "I am not here!" Then she covered herself with the other bed's blanket.

As soon as she did that, the door opened and the fat innkeeper came through the door. He had a furious face on him, until he saw Haydee. When he saw her, he became very polite, for she had a pretty face. "'Cuse me, ma'am. But did a red haired women run in here with a bunch of apples." Haydee slowly shook her head "no"… with out really thinking. "Damnation!" Cursed the innkeeper, then he bowed to Haydee, "Thank ya ma'am." Then he went out the door and began to walk away.

When the footsteps faded away, Klethi then poked her head out of the sheets and gave a mischievous smiled. Then she ripped of the covers and revealed her prize about a half dozen red apples. "Haha," She laughed, "Thanks! I thought he had for certain."

Haydee then looked at her curiously. She had seen her around the troop ever since Uxkhal, but she never really talked to the red haired girl before. Haydee then looked at the apples, "Did you steal those?" Klethi smiled proudly, "Yep! Stole them right under that fat bastard's nose! He wanted to charge me 7 daners per apple! So I just took 'em! Steal from those who would steal from you, as they say," she said violently biting into an apple. She then looked at her, and tossed her an apple; "Here I suppose I owe you for not ratting me out."

Haydee caught the apple and said, "Thanks… your name is Klethi, right?" "That's right! Yours was… Hay… Haybale. Right?" "Hay**dee**," she corrected Klethi. "Oh that's right." Then Klethi looked at her and asked, "You used to be noble, right?" Haydee looked at her with her one open eye, and Klethi smiled, she was right. "I can tell," explained Klethi, "I used to work for nobles back in the Khanate. I know how they react, how they move and how they smell." Then she grinned, "They do not reek of the streets. Like you, you don't have that smell. But don't worry a few years traveling and that will change."

Klethi then looker over, Haydee was slowly nibbling at her apple. She couldn't help but that she told her too much, "Hey cheer up!" She said looking at Haydee, "Since I know so much about you, I'll tell you what I used to be! I used to be an assassin!" Haydee then looked at Klethi, "You were an assassin!" "Yep!" Smiled Klethi. Haydee then mentally put up her guard, she didn't want to fight another one. "Or at least I used to be," corrected Klethi, "Until I met Roland." She fell on the bed and slowed her chewing, "Now he's a mystery. I can't figure him out…" she said thinking out loud. "I mean he's smarter both in the book and on the street then anyone I ever met, yet he doesn't seem to boast about it. I think he's noble but even then he smells nicer then any noble I've ever come across." She took another bite and shrugged, "Aw well, I'll find out eventually…"

"What made you become an assassin?" asked Haydee curiously. Klethi smiled, "I started so I could make money for my mates and family back home in Uslum. But then I stopped…" "Why?" "They didn't need it any more, they died in a raid of the village." Haydee then felt guilty for bringing it up, "I'm sorry." But Klethi shrugged it off, "Aw don't worry about it!"

Haydee then glanced over at the red head sitting in the other bed. "How do you get over something like that?" Haydee asked. Klethi made an unsure face, "Get over? Who said I was over them? They died, so did dozens of other people. They weren't alone. It's hardly seems fair to morn some and not others." Then she smiled and took at bite at the final apple, "So I decide not to morn any of the dead. I mean can they hear them?" "I do not know…" said Haydee unsure of herself. "Neither do I. Sooo, instead I think about living instead of dying."

"But what about the past ones' life's?" Asked Haydee trying to argue with her, "There accomplishments when they were alive? Don't they mean anything?"

Klethi shrugged, "I guess as long as you remember them they do…" Then she looked at Haydee and smiled, "When does death begin? When you are dead or when you are forgotten?" Haydee was frozen in place by the question. "I'm not sure myself, but I like the fact of knowing that if I remember them, they are still alive." Then she got sat upright and added, "And if you believe in the afterlife then you won't have to worry, 'cause then you will see them again and you won't have to remember them anymore." Haydee then looked down in at the bed in thought.

Klethi had finished off the final apple, and added finally, "Besides, as long as you belong somewhere, one really doesn't need anything else right?" And she sunk her teeth in the final bite of apple and nibbled at the core, then plopped the core on the bed with the other four of them.

Klethi then got up and threw the five cores out the window. She let out a content sigh, "Well, I gotta run. No doubt the innkeeper's searching all the other rooms for me! Gotta leave before he gets back!" She then smiled at Haydee, "You should smile more, you get old and ugly quick looking grim all of the time!" Haydee then half smiled. She then repositioned herself in her bed and felt something under her leg. Reaching down she pulled it out from under the sheets and looked at it.

It was a wooden braid, with a lily carved in it. Haydee looked at it hard, she had seen it some where before. Klethi looked at it admiring it, "It's pretty. To bad it's not shiny… Is it yours?" Haydee shook her head, but she remembered whose it was. It was the barmaid's. The other Sarranid girl who had died in the alley that night, this was hers. She then remembered what the hired killer said his target would look like, a Sarrinad girl with long midnight hair and a flawless face. Klethi saw that Haydee had forgot she was in the room and turned to head out the door.

Before she reached the door, Haydee stopped her, snapping out of her haze with the braid, "Klethi, could I ask a favor?" The assassin turned and smiled, "sure. What is it?"

* * *

Roland and Ymira rode back to the inn after a long day of trading, several hours later. Ymira had convinced Roland to leave the inn by agreeing to show him the ropes of trading. In a few hours span, Roland had learned the best deals in the city and where to go to get them and how to acquire them. The two of them rode back with a bunch of new food for the men when out traveling.

As they rode to the inn, they ran into Klethi returning back as well from where ever see was. "Klethi, where were you all day?" Klethi shrugged, "had to lose an innkeeper in the city. He's lost somewhere in Reyvadin," chuckled Klethi, "it will take him most of the night to get back!" Roland then eyed suspiciously at one of her knife scabbards that was empty. "Why was he chasing you?" "Oh I stole a couple apples he was over charging people for." She then realized he was staring at her empty scabbard, she laughed, "Don't worry, sir. I didn't harm him! I just let him work off some of his fat! Anyway Haydee asked if she could borrow it."

"For what?!" Demanded Roland. Klethi shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't ask sir." Roland and Ymira looked at each other, they shared the same thought. They dismounted quickly and then rushed into the inn. As they ran Roland didn't want to think what she might have done with that knife. Rushing up the stairs, Roland and Ymira forces the door open.

In the room they saw Haydee, standing in the middle of the room facing away form the door. Her hair was significantly shorter and rough looking, not evenly cut, almost boyish. On the floor behind her ankles, were the strands of her once long hair. In her hand it was Klethi's knife, no doubt her utensil of choice to cut her hair.

Hearing the door open, Haydee then slowly turned to see who it was. She showed her left side of her face first. When she had completely turned, it showed that she had removed the bandage over her eye. It reveal a long scar that started just above her eyebrow, and went all the way down, on her eyelid down to her cheek bone. She then half smiled, "I thought it would harder for people to identify me if I cut my hair shorter. Sorry if I worried you Roland. I'm better now."

* * *

-Present Day-

Roland let out an annoyed sigh. It was one headache after another in this long day, including the one he had since the morning. After the successful meeting with the Sultan, Henderson gave the Wolves a "night free of duties" which meant his men would pull a double shift and guard the Wolves camp as well. Henderson also had provided them with several kegs of alcohol. Which led to no good.

Most of the men had drunk their fill and almost every man and woman had a hangover, even Roland. It was one of the reasons he did not drink ale, not only because of the taste but just a tiny quantity of it made him wake up with a headache in the morning. And he had a whole pint the previous night he had a **severe** headache. But the day also had its said moments as well.

The Wolves had to say farewell to two of them. Count Henderson decided it would be wise to return and report to King Harlaus as soon as he could. Roland understood, he was a Count after all. And going with him would be Artimenner, the company's "steward". He was tired of traveling and Count Henderson offered him a place at Suno. It was just what he needed. While Roland had reservations about sending him off, he knew it was for the best. At about noon they gather together at the edge of the camp to say farewell to the two of them. Roland shook both of their hands and said, "So long and best of luck. We will be sure to stop by some time." Artimenner half smiled, "I look forward to that." The he turned to the two people he hated. Jeremus gave a slight nod, and Artimenner gave a similar nod. Then he looked at Klethi who just said, "Nice to see you are finally admitting you are old…" Artimenner just shook his head, she was someone he would never understand. But he could look forward to seeing her less then he had before. With a final look Artimenner looked back at the company, and gave a nod of approval. The two of them mounted their horses and then rode off to join Henderson's men and move out.

Presently Roland was making his late afternoon rounds through the camp making sure, that everything was fine. He came across Jeremus's tent and went in. "What's the injury report," he asked seeing Jeremus only the second time today. Jeremus smiled, "about sixty cases of hangovers and one broken tooth." Jeremus smiled, "Other then that it was a quite night. Roland then saw a figure lying on Jeremus's sick cot. It was Byrta, a sword sister. She let out a low moan in pain from the taking. Any sound seemed to cause her pain. "She's the worst of them," whispered Jeremus, "I'm keeping her here to make sure she gets from rest." Roland nodded, Byrta was one of the first sword sisters he recruited, and she was the first one to volunteer. She was known though out the company as being able to out drink any man. And she lived up to her name quite well, and proved it again last night. Now she was paying the price. Roland chuckled and let Jeremus continue with is work.

Walking trough the camp, Roland then noticed Haydee standing beside a mound of rocks. Hardeth's grave marker. The Wolves had made camp almost in the exact same spot as they did three years ago. It made Roland laugh to himself. He then walked over to the mound and to the left of Haydee. She was just staring at it, with a slight smile on her lips and a look on her face of what Roland could best describe it as "comfort".

"It's hard to believe it was three years ago when you found me…" said Haydee. "What's even harder to believe that three years later I'd be back here, at peace with myself and my uncle…" She then chuckled, "Life is funny…"

Roland shrugged, "I think life is prefers to have moments mean something more then what we see at face value. We just have to be open to looking for them."

Haydee smiled, she then looked down in her hand, she was holding the braid from the barmaid. She never knew her name, only that she was a friend. She smiled; she no longer felt guilt, for her or for Hardeth. They were at peace she felt, because she was.

She then turned and looked at Roland, with both eyes. "I know I have said this many times," she said cheerfully, and face grew to a large bright smile, "But thank you. Thank you oh so much Roland." She then looked at him, again with both eyes open.

Roland stared at her, "Haydee… your eye…" Haydee looked confused for a second. She then noticed something was odd with her vision. Then she put her hand over left eye and was surprised, She could now see out of it, the eyelid was no longer shut. She smiled again and looked at the setting sun. "It's beautiful…"

She then carefully placed the braid around her belt. And then turned to Roland and said, "Should we head back?" And Roland nodded.

As they walked back to the camp, Roland then asked, "Did you find it yet?" "Hm?" "What you were looking for?" Haydee remembered. Three years ago she had told him she was looking for a home. Haydee sighed, "I guess I already had it…" she smiled and quoted him: "I just didn't look hard enough to see past the face value. But now I can see." She then rushed ahead and called after him, "Come on Roland. Let's go home."

Roland smiled. He watched her go into the Wolves camp. She had found what she was looking for: home…

* * *

-End Notes-

Haydee's Final Chapter

Officially this marks the end of Haydee's origin/conflict story, now we can resume normal activities. Hahaha, what is normal for this story?

Bye-Bye Artimenner.

There was no particular rhyme or reason why I decided to have Artimenner leave the Wolves other then the fact that I was sort of hogging the spot light on Haydee for the longest time, and by dwindling the amount of companions in the troop, it could mean more story time for them. Plus with Lezalit, (his only friend in the game), gone I felt that he would be motivated to go. Now this doesn't mean Artimenner is gone for good, I will probably have him be a tagalong to Henderson and show up occasionally.

Anyway Happy Friday!

Cheers All!

Indogma


	18. Dhirim

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Dhirim.

The plains of Swadia south of Dhirim were blanketed with light and warmth from the noon sun assisted by a cloudless morning sky. A light Nordic breeze from the north, bringing with it cool temperatures that prevented the sun from scorching the earth below it. It was gorgeous weather today.

As the Wolves rode north, Roland inhaled contently, taking in the fresh breeze on that blew on his face, and exhaled happily. Then he grinned and looked behind him, he and the Wolves were making good time. After breaking camp in the wasteland, the Wolves made a large leap towards their next destination, Dhirim; passing Reindi Castle and the Yalibe in a mere half of day. They would have been there now, but they Wolves were distracted. By the afternoon, the Deshavi spotted a medium size group of bandits patrolling between the cliffs by Senuzgda Castle and the Ushkuru. No doubt looking for any villagers or caravans that came their way.

Eager to fight, most of the Wolves became excited when they heard the sound of bandits. After a few weeks of avoiding fights the Wolves needed one. Smiling lightly, Roland then led them in pursue. It took less then a half hour for them to have the bandits within their sights. Cresting a small hill, Roland and the Wolves looked and saw the Bandits slowly walking towards the village of Ushkuru. Roland chuckled at the bandits they were oblivious to them. The Roland heard someone ride up to the side of him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw it was Alayen. He was excited. "Shall we charge, captain?"

Roland smiled and nodded towards the bandits, "Go ahead Alayen, I stay here and let you lead them here." He then smiled at Alayen, "That is if you up to it?" The brown haired Wolf nodded quickly, "Always, Captain!" The brown haired knight then turned and began to bark orders at the Wolves, preparing them for the charge. Roland then walked his horse to the side and let Alayen have command. "Wolves!" Alayen shouted with authority, "Charge!"

In one massive wave the Wolves the charged upon the bandits. The first ones to reach the unsuspected bandits were the sword sisters, the then heavier armed men caught up with the sword sisters. Roland knew that the fight was already over, it was unfair for the bandits.

"Letting someone wear ya boots, laddie?" Smiling at the accent, Roland knew who it belonged to. "Just seeing what he can do, Katrin." Reasoned Roland. He then smiled, "Although I doubt these bandits will prove much of a challenge to him, but at least he will get some experience under his belt." The aged woman smiled, "Aye, better to have some knowledge of battle."

He then looked at Roland, "I suppose ya might need a new steward now that Artimenner is gone…" Roland glanced at Katrin, he had completely forgotten about needing someone to replace Artimenner's duties. The company's steward was in charge of overseeing the daily small maintenance with the company, making sure the equipment was in working order, organizing camp placements, and keeping Roland up to date with the level of food and water the troop had. "I actually forgot about that."

"Well ya better find one, a lot of the meat he had for the journey has gone rotten." "How much food is left is left?" "Enough wheat to make a couple of meals of poor excuse for bread, plus some weak wine to drink. The last week has really taken a toll on our supplies." "And on our funds as well, I bet," thought Roland. He'd have to check it tonight, but he could expect the Wolves to be in the red for this month. Not that they could not afford it. Roland had enough money to raise an large army and up keep it for a year without no other income. But he did not like keeping the troop in the red he did that mistake often his first year leading the Wolves, and he swore he would never do that again.

"Well we should be Dhirim by tomorrow. There we can restock on what we need and look for work. Plus I'm sure I can milk Henderson for some daners." He then joked, "I mean after all, I did rescue the bastard." Katrin laughed to, then noticed the battle below, "Ya better head down their laddie. Looks like they are finished with 'em."

Roland looked and smiled, most of the bandits were dead, and the rest had surrendered. Roland then spurred his horse and rode down to the cheering men and then preceded to begin the clean up.

The results of the battle were less then envious. They captured, about 13 bandits of the original 38. Most of the bandit's equipment was tattered leather armor and cracked weapons. Roland predicted that they would not even add up to 200 daners. But Roland didn't mind the battle itself had proven to be worth more then the loot they gathered. It was a great tension relief for most of the men.

As the Wolves then preceded to continue North toward Dhirim, night seemed to quickly gain upon them. Before Roland knew it, the afternoon was leading to dusk quickly. He then order camp to be made, and for the Wolves to be settled in for the night. It took and extra half hour to get it set up, proving to Roland the urgent need of a steward. The experience made him miss Artimenner. When they finally got settled down, Roland then retired to his tend to some book keeping.

After a small tally, he concluded that the Wolves had lost about 3490 daners from their rescue mission. Roland then felt down, it was far more then he expected. He then shook his head; it would take a while and some lucky trading to gain that money back. But he brushed it past him, he could talk to Henderson, he was not a man to forget favors. He owned the Wolves big. Also the trip was not a complete loss. The Wolves had also met the Sultan, who welcomed one of them to visit his court. Not only did it open a new area the Wolves could work from, but four new cities to trade from. Sarrdak dyes and pottery were well coveted in the west, and in buck qualities, could bring in large amounts of profit. It was hard to hate the trip after looking back.

After dealing with the bookwork, Roland then made a patrol of the camp. With Artimenner gone he predicted that there would be a problem or two. Plus he was going to check the process of dinner. Walking around the camp, he dealt with a few small fires that arose with the disorganization, and putting them out before they could do any damage. After continuing his patrol, he then heard a voice come form his side, "Oi captain. Out for a late night stroll?"

Roland glanced and saw Bunduk, the seasoned soldier of the company. Other then Deshavi, he was one of the better shots in the company, trained to kill with any sort of crossbow. He was in charge of training the sword sisters on how to use them. Since the heavier bows required more physical strength, often the women, other then Dashavi, could not wield then right away. So Roland then gave them crossbows to use, which had more of a punch and didn't require a massive amount of strength operate, the crossbow was a very fitting weapon.

Roland smiled, he had not talked to Bunduk in quite some time. "Bunduk, how goes it?" "Fair, sir. Fair." The then grinned, as if he had a secret. "Been talking with captured bandits. There's talk of a tournament nearby, and it seems like they were keen on pry on travelers to it." "Really?" Roland was surprised, but then he remembered that they were avoiding contact for the last couple of weeks and had little time for local news. "Where?" asked Roland

Bunduk smiled. "In Dhirim, sir. Seems like fat king Harlaus wants another reason to feast." Roland smiled but only slightly. Everyone called the Swadian King "Fat" due to his nature of holding feasts quite frequently, evening the middle of wars. Even his own subjects used this adjective to describe their sovereign. Yet the King had remained clueless to the whole name. Which made it all the more funny when Roland saw it. But he was informed that he was not one to really be tested with. When he was angry, the entire court suffered. So Roland never questioned him about it, since it had potential to upset him.

"When did they say it would happen?" "It's supposed to start when King arrives in the city. He declared this about five days ago. It takes about ten days for his army to get really anywhere. So it could be in five days or a week."

Roland then scratched his head in thought. A tournament could be an excellent way to get beck the money the Wolves lost in the endeavor. Plus it would be a entertaining event for the men. He then nodded, "Go to know. Thanks Bunduk." The man smiled, "Your welcome sir. Now I better get back to the prisoners." "Make sure they don't get out in the night alright?" "Aye, sir."

Bunduk then went in the direction of the prisoners and left Roland to continue with his walk through the camp. He then stopped by Katrin's wagon and grabbed some cool bread made a few hours earlier for supper. As he munched it, Roland saw an open spot beside the fire where a group of Wolves had gathered to eat their meals and swap stories. Settling in, the Wolves' conversation didn't halt upon seeing their captain join them. They were used to a sort of informal-ness that Roland shared within the camp. As they sat there one of the sword sisters looked at Roland and asked, "Where is our next stop captain?"

Roland then looked at her and smiled, "I thought the troop could use a days rest or two." Roland then glanced at the other Wolves, who were listening and nodding in agreement. Seeing that was what they wanted he then added, "Dhirim, and from what I hear there is to be a tourney there. It will a good time to recover don't you think?" They all smiled, a tournament. It was exactly what they needed.

The night came and went uneventfully. And in the morning the Wolves broke camp and made their way North as soon as possible. Roland suspected that the inns in the city would be full by the time the king arrived to kick of the tournament. If it was Suno or Uxkhal, he could ask Henderson or Delinard for logging. But the city's ruler was Count Delgan. Roland had heard of him and had met him on several occasions, but other then that he was a stranger to him.

As they role, Roland was surrounded by Ymira, Jeremus, Katrin, Alayen and Deshavi. They were listing names to find a new steward for the company. They had been at since morning and had very little luck. One by one they went through the companies personnel, seeing if any of them could take over Artimenner's position. None seemed to have enough knowledge to effectively take over. Then the suggestion of Haydee came up. She seemed to fit all the requirements, she was educated and smart, plus everyone in the troop seemed to like her. She was a candidate. Then Ymira made the observation that a second steward might come in handy, so that they would not have to go through this process again. Roland agreed, and said he would have to ask Haydee if she was fine with it, both being the steward and sharing the duties with another. But the discussion was brought to a close with the sighting of the city in the distance.

The city of Dhirim was not as busy as Roland expected it to be. With the tournament coming he expected the city to be crawling with fighters, mercenaries and any one else who was planning to compete, in addition to the local spectators who came to watch the show. But he suspected that the city would be seeing them shortly. After finding an inn, Roland and the Wolves then paid for their rooms for a week in advance, knowing that they would have to claim their space and protect it if they wanted to sleep in an inn for the tournament.

In the inn, the Wolves then settled in for the tournament. Roland paid the troop their entitled wages and let them spend it to their will. He never asked what the men spent it on, but he could take a wild guess that most of the men spent it on booze, food and women, while the sword sisters and the men with families preferred to save their money.

When the money was given out, Roland then gave a small group of men the order to remain in the inn and watch their rooms for thieves and the innkeeper pawing the rooms off to a higher bidder. The rest of the Wolves were given free reign in the city. They could do what ever they wanted, so long as they did not cause trouble. And most of the Wolves then left the inn to see the city, including Roland.

As he strolled along the streets, he caught sight of Haydee and Ymira walking together. He then rushed up and caught up with them, joining their little group in exploring the city. While walking, Roland then asked, "Say Haydee, with Artimenner gone… we are in need of a company steward." He then looked at Ymira who smiled back at him, "and Ymira suggested you for the task." He then smiled at Haydee, "would you be up to it?"

Haydee stared at Roland surprised. "What would I have to do?" Roland shrugged, "It's not hard, I can show you the duties. All it really is keeping informed of out supplies and setting up came." He then smiled, "If you are scared of the amount of work that is involved don't worry. Artimenner made it seem more important then what it actually was." Haydee felt reassured. "Sure," she nodded, "I'll give it a try."

Roland smiled, "Thanks." They then continued along the way until they reached a crossroads in front of the gate. The three of them stopped, due to a troop of men that were walking up the street towards them. There were about fifty of them, all of them seemed to bear an emblem of an lion on their surcoats. The leader was a big man in heavy armor that would rival any lord. He had thick brown hair and a long brown beard that matched his head in both thickness and in length. Roland knew who they were, even though he had never seen them before. They were the Lions of Swadia, another group of mercenaries that only ever sold their services to the Swadia nobles. For a high price.

Henderson had mentioned the Lions before; he said he had used them once for a job. While they completed the task, he said that he felt that they were asking too much for a simple job. After that Henderson avoided offering jobs to the Lions, and often asked Roland if he had a job.

The men were now approaching the three of them. When the big man passed the three he saw Ymira and Haydee, and looked at them oddly. Smiling he then said in a flirting tone, "It's not everyday I see two pretty girls in armor. But I'd love to see you two without it on." The two girls looked at each other, while a little flattered, they knew better then to fall for his hallow complement.

"Too bad that's not going to happen." Said Roland crossing his arms, answering for them. The man then look crossly at Roland, upset for him to put down the complement he gave. "And who the hell are you? Do you know who I am boy?" Roland smiled, "Hagen of the Lions." The man then leaned back, impressed that Roland knew his name. "How'd you know my name?" Roland shrugged, "it's not hard to tell the captain of the troop of men. He's more often then not the man that makes the biggest ass of himself as soon as he sees a girl." Hagen felt the insult sting his pride, but he let it go. He was tried and didn't want to deal with a pup right now.

The man then saw the emblem on Roland, Ymira and Haydee wore. "The Wolves?" The man snorted, "I've heard of ya all." "Nice to know we are admired…" said Roland sarcastically. "Shut it," said the man crossly. He then leaned in close and look into Roland's eyes, "Tell yer captain, if he is man enough, he'll fight me in the tourney in a few days. Can ya do that boy?" "Trust me," smiled Roland. "he will hear it." Hagen then scoffed and spurred his horse forward and the other men followed.

When Hagan had left them, Roland then looked at the to and smiled. "This tournament is getting interesting." "Do you plan to complete?" Asked Ymira. "Kinda hard not to when a rival mercenary captain calls you out. What about you two?" Tournaments were open for everyone, even women. Ymira smiled, "Might as well try." Roland then looked at Haydee who had shook her head. "I'm not. I'd rather watch." Roland shrugged, "Suit yourself." The three then continued to walk around the city.

Meanwhile, Alayen, Matheld and Deshavi were also walking around the city. The three of them were exploring the local blacksmiths looking for any fine weapons hidden away in the smith's shops. After locating one, they noticed a pair of sword sisters outside of it, facing what the three concluded to be the blacksmith. Both of them wore armor covered bright red surcoats with a rose emblem on it, and one of them was holding a broken blade and quite red in the face from yelling. "What do ya mean you cannot fix it?!" "I mean what I said, lady," replied the smith. "Yer blade is beyond repair. I can't fix it." "Some smith." She said scoffing off. Then the two ladies walked away from the smithy in the opposite direction of the other three.

The other three looked at each other. They knew the emblem, it was Ali's of the Roses. The former Wolf was here, and most likely here for the tournament. "Deshavi watch them slowly disappear into the city. When they had vanished, she said thinking out loud, "This will be an interesting tourney… a very interesting tournament." "If Roland completes," added Matheld. "He will…" said Alayen nodding. "He will."

-End Notes

Hagen!

I had wanted to introduce Hagen as a character in the story for the longest time now. I thought he would make a nice rival for the wolves other then Ali. (Who is more of a betrayer then a rival, but I intent to have her own little story as well as a recruitment story.) Anyway he is your stereotypical mercenary, more meat then brains and only captain because he is the toughest.

Thanks!

To those who added their own M&B stories to FanFiction. It's great to know that I am no longer monopolizing the M&B fanfict page. Keep it up!


	19. A Delay for the Tournament

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

A Delay for the Tournament

Within the days leading up to the tournament, the city of Dhirim became over followed with travelers. Roland and the others had arrived just in time, managing to avoid the flood of people into the city. Within hours of the day after the Wolves checked into the inn, the city was being plagued by flocks of people. Within two days all of the inns were full to capacity.

Roland's plan to leave a few men behind at the rooms during the day turned out to be a good idea. Twice the innkeeper had attempted to give their rooms away to a higher price to another, but since the men were there, they prevented that from happening. And on many other occasions, the innkeeper tried to squeeze in another group into the room saying they could use the floor to sleep on, but again the men who remained behind stopped that from happening. The innkeeper was upset, but he could not complain. The Wolves had been one of his best renters, compared to some the other inn other inns.

An innkeeper at another inn decided to sell a set of rooms that he had given to the Lions to a higher paying customer. When Hagen and his Lions returned, found their rooms taken, and their belongings outside where they had been rummaged through by thieves and their items was stolen right out of their bags. Hagen was not happy and went to complain the innkeeper. Within minutes, the entire inn was engulfed within a giant fistfight: the Lions-vs-everyone else. It took a half hour for the city guard to intervene, and by that time the inn's entire population of tables and chairs and kegs of ale had been broken damaged or drunk. The guard was forced to remove the entire inn of its guest and close the inn until the tournament was finished. All of the guests and the Lions then had to make camp outside of the walls where the people who found now room were forced to stay and the Lions had to as well. So while the innkeeper made some money profit from giving the Lion's rooms away, they Lions in turn made sure the innkeeper lost a lot of money.

In the time before the king arrived, the Wolves spent a lot of their free time sparring with each other in order to practice before the tournament. Roland had decided to partner up Wolves based on who was competing and who was not. About half the Wolves and half were not, so it worked out well. This way those who were completing in the tournament would not relieve their style to their fellow competitors in the tournament, and those not competing to have a chance to practice and train.

Then one the morning of the third day a caller rode through the city, proclaiming that King Harlaus would arrive early this morning and that the tournament would commence this noon. When the city heard this, every one, including the Wolves filled with excitement and prepared themselves for the tournament. As the early morning ended, group of loud horns could be heard from north gate— the king and company had arrived.

After having the men who were not competing in the tournament draw straws to see who would have to look after the rooms today, Roland and the Wolves that were going to the tournament walked over to the tournament field. Since they left a bit earlier then most others did, the Wolves were able to get into a good position in line. After checking in, the Wolves that were going to compete, including Roland and Ymira, went under the stands, while the others went up to the stands.

Under the stands was an armory of sorts, it had the largest selection of padded armor and practice weapons that Roland had ever seen. One of the advantages of being the first ones there, they were able to pick the finer armor that they had. After getting suited up, most of the men begun to hang around the gates of the arena.

As they walked to one of the gates, a duo of men caught sight of Ymira and Roland's other sword sisters and begun to laugh. While the tournament was open to any gender to try, it still was taboo for women to fight in it, and when they did they were often considered the underlings, and never a true contender in the fight. Ymira and the other sword sisters just walked past the two men, they had grown used to this sort of behavior. But they felt confident in their abilities and were more then happy to prove the laughing duo wrong.

When they reached the closest gate, decided to wait around it for the tournament to begin. As the day progress, more and more fighters began to hang around the gate. To pass the time, they began to chat amounts themselves, excluding Roland and the Wolves unintentionally.

"Did ya hear? The Kingdom of Vaegirs have taken Sungetche Castle!" "But didn't they lose castle Nelag?" "No, they held on to that! Now they control both of the northern passes to the Khanate!" "Hmph, I guess the Vaegirs aren't entirely pushovers." "Or that the Khanate can't siege anything."

"So I hear Henderson 's back?" Roland begun listening in on the conversation hearing Henderson's name. "Yeah, supposedly he broke out of Tulga about a few weeks ago!" "I hear the Khanate broke of the siege of Castle Nelag just to have their entire army search their lands for him." "How'd he do it? I mean break out of the city?" "He had help." "Who?" "Ever hear of the Wolves?"

Roland nudged Ymira who was standing opposite of him paying with a stand of grass that she had picked up out of boredom. After he got her attention he then brushed his right ear with his left index finger, signaling to Ymira to listen in on the conversation.

"Yeah, who hasn't?" "Well they are the ones that helped him!" "What they work for Henderson?" "No doubt Henderson pays them well." "I bet they live like kings!" A smile crept up on Roland and Ymira's faces. Roland **was** rich he wasn't denying that, but he certainly didn't live like a King.

"I know it would take a lot for any company to siege any city, they must have been paid thousands!" "I heard they didn't siege the city. No, the Wolves came in one night and the next day Henderson was gone!" "I hear their leader went in alone and slaughtered every one he could see, and after he freed Henderson he burned the entire city down!" The last statement made Ymira raise an eyebrow as if asking doubtfully "Did you?" Roland lightly shrugged, as if saying, "I don't know were they are getting this crap!"

"Ah shut it, I was their after the Wolves were, and the city was still there ya dolt!" "But the company's bard, Perry swears it was true!" Roland then looked cross at Ymira, "I'm gonna kill him…" he said quietly. Ymira laughed. "When are we suppose to get starting?" "As soon as he king gets here." "But it's noon!" Roland glanced at Ymira to confirm. She gave a slight nod. Roland then looked at the King's set in the stands. It was deserted, which was very odd, even if the king was late, their would be a lord or two up their by now… "Something is wrong…" thought Roland.

His suspicions were put on hold, by the sound of a caller walking through the participants shouting, "Roland of the Wolves! Anyone here by that name?" Roland then looked at Ymira confused, who also shared his confusion with a shrug. Putting his helmet on, Roland then walked away from the gate and saw the caller walking towards him saying, "Roland, Roland of the Wolves!"

"I'm here!" Said Roland putting his hand up. As soon as he said it, every warriors' eyes turned on him and stared at him; which was one of the reasons why he put his helmet on. He was proud of the fact that while people knew his name, nobody really knew what he looked like other then the Wolves and Henderson and some of the Lords of the land.

"Why are you calling my name?" He asked though his helmet. "You are summoned to the castle, Count Henderson wishes to speak to you." This was news to Roland, "Henderson is here? In the city?" The caller nodded, "Yes, he arrived with the king early this morning. He requests your attendance urgently."

Roland then nodded, "Thank you. I will be there shortly." With that the caller then took off out of underneath the stands. Roland the turned towards Ymira and she gave a firm nod, as if saying, "I can handle it here until you get back."

With that Roland then turned to head out of the contestant area and headed for the castle. When he left, the warriors began to whisper between themselves, "That was Roland of the Wolves!" "Did you see his face?" "No, I didn't see it!" "I bet he ugly scare on his face." "Missing an eye!" "I heard that a Wolf had a scar across their eye! Maybe it's him!" Ymira then leaned her back against the walls around the gate, and smiled to herself.

When Roland was far enough form the arena to be out of the vision of the participants he removed his helmet and walked to the castle. When he got to the main doors of the keep, a sentry stopped him and asked, "Name and business 'ere!" Roland then noticed a black Lion on a blood red background. That was King Harlaus's emblem. The King was in the castle. He answered "Roland of the Wolves, I was requested to come here by Count Henderson of Suno." The sentry gave a unbelieving look at Roland, he was wearing a padded leather armor suit and carried a cheap iron helmet. As the leader of a mercenary group he did not look like it.

He then gave a small nod and said, "They are expecting you." "They?" "Yes King Harlaus and several other counts of Swadia." Roland then felt a little under dressed for the occasion, but shook it off.

As he entered into the great hall, Roland's footsteps echoed through the room loudly. He walked toward the back toward a line of men standing behind a blazer with one of them sitting on a chair, "Fat" King Harlaus himself. He had not changed all that much since the last time he saw him, still had short silver hair and a short beard that covered most of his chin and cheeks. He sat in the chair looking bored, as if he'd rather be anywhere but there. To his immediate right was Count Henderson, adorned in his purple surcoat he was smiling seeing Roland walk up the to the line; and to the right of Henderson was Count Delinard, also smiling.

When Roland got to the other side of the blazer he then stopped looked at the other lords. Some of them was familiar, but he could not pick names, and some he had never met in his time here in Calradia. After a moment of awkward silence, Roland then said, "I apologize for my appearance, I came straight here from the tournament." And then he added, "I was expecting participate."

"And I was expecting to watch it this afternoon," said the King annoyed.

"So then why aren't you?" Asked Roland. After that the Count to the left of the king stepped forward, "You will remember your manners, whelp! When you address your king, you address him as "sire," or "my king"!" Roland then looked at the Count, he was bald with a raven hair bread and moustache. "I remember my manners quite well enough on my own, Count." Replied Roland coolly, "I just do not address as such because he is not my King. I am not a citizen of Swadia, I have no loyalty to him. So explain to me again why I need to address him as "my king" when he is not?"

Henderson and Delinard then put their faces to cover their faces as if embarrassed for Roland. The Count who tried to scold Roland then grew red in anger, "Why you—" "No need for that, Count Montewar." Interrupted the King. "The man's right, and I do not mind forgetting formality."

"Forgive me for interrupting, King Harlaus. But why did Count Henderson send for me?"

"Down to the bones of the issue then?" Said the King. He then smiled, "I like that. Not wasting my time or yours!"

"Pardon my lord," interrupted Count Delgan, "but shouldn't we wait for the other captains?"

King Harlaus then scoffed, "then they should have come directly here when they were requested to! I'm not waiting anymore time on this!" The King then motioned Henderson to begin.

Henderson then stepped forward. "Roland, as you know, the tournament as been, "stalled"." "That's one way of putting it," joked Roland. "Yes, well there is a reason for it." "Count Grainwad's daughter has been kidnapped," butted in the king, cutting to the chase. "She disappeared on the way to the city a day ago and has not been seen since! Now the Count won't give is permission to start the tournament until his daughter is safe." Roland shrugged, "Can't you say "to bad we are doing it anyway"?" Normally we would," said the King without a moments hesitation, which concerned Roland a little. "But this is the Count's tournament, he has to give the final permission of approval. Besides," added Harlaus placing his elbow on the armrest of the chair and leading his head on his hand, "He's paying for all of it."

"Ah…" Now it made sense, "And now one else wants to pay for this tournament." "Exactly," said the king, who concluded, "So we have to find the daughter if we want to get this tourney started!" "I take it you want me and the Wolves to search for her?"

"You and every other mercenary troop in the city right now." Added Count Montewar, "The Wolves, The Roses, The Lions, and all of the smaller companies." Roland then realized what Count Deglan meant by the "others".

Roland nodded, the sooner they got this done, the sooner the tournament could begin. "Alright, where was she last seen?" "About a few miles north of Dhirim, she was last spotted by a group of farmers heading north to Tosdhar," informed Henderson.

"Any other leads?" "There is nothing else you need to know!" Said Montewar. "How about her name? I'm assuming that she has one. If I am going to rescue her, it's the least I should know." "Her name is Lady Sonadel," replied Henderson.

Roland then sighed, "Very well, we will do what we can." "What," snorted Count Montewar, "No guarantee that you will get her back?" "To me a guarantee just proves someone is afraid to lose or of failing. I guarantee nothing but a search for her, that's all. Whether or not I find her depends on how lucky I am." "Wise words…" said King Harlaus impressed with Roland's blunt remark. Roland nodded and excused himself. When he left the great hall, King Harlaus then said out loud, "I'm starting to like him." Then he leaned over to count Henderson and said, "How come he is not a Count?"

"He's just not interested, my King. We have offered him a title and a fiefdom but he's always turned them down. I guess he does not like being tied down in one place."

King Harlaus then chuckled, "strange man." "You have no idea, sire." Added Henderson.

As Roland left the castle and headed for the main exit, he heard a boisterous voice from the other side of the castle doors. "I don't care about ya orders! I was summoned here by the king, now get out of my way!" Then the door flew open and Roland saw that it was Hagen of the Lions. He clearly had to go back and change into his chain mail and plate metal armor, and to add that, the tournament was delayed just merely added to his frustration. As he stormed pass Roland his eyes did not shift from the doors of the great hall and did not even glance at Roland as he passed him. Watching Hagen pass into the great hall, Roland laughed to himself imaging how Hagen would react to the nobles and the King. "I wish I could've seen that scene take place," thought Roland.

After exit the keep of the castle, Roland again donned on his helmet and began to walk back to the arena to gather the Wolves their. As he strolled back, he saw Ali in her bright red and white surcoat, and her bright red hair tied back into a ponytail, she must have just come back from changing too just like Hagen. Now Roland **really** wanted to see what would happen when she meet Hagen. As Ali got closer to Roland, she did not give him a second thought because he was wearing a helmet and padded armor without his surcoat, so she did not suspect his identity. Which suited Roland fine, he didn't want to deal with her smart mouth.

Ali was not the only one heading up to the castle to see the king. Several other mercenaries captain followed her, most of them excited to be able to see the king for the first time. A lot of them were from small mercenary companies often not even considered big rivals. So any work, especially from the King seemed to a great honor to them.

Arriving outside the arena, he found that the word of the tournament's delay head reached them. Most of the spectators and participants were leaving the inn upset and returning to their boarding. Outside the arena Roland caught sight of Ymira Haydee and the other Wolves who had come their to compete or to watch. Walking up to them he removed his helmet and asked, "Missed me?"

"Captain," asked one of Wolves, "What is going on? Why is the tourney delayed?" "Long story." Roland then explained why he was summoned and why the tourney was halted. "So in short we have to rescue the girl in order to get the tournament moving again." He then looked at his men and asked, "Any questions?" All of the Wolves shock their heads: "no." Roland smiled, "good. Now here is the plan: first we need to suit up! When we get back to the inn try to get ready as fast as you can! Time is important. Then well head north and try to pick up on their trail. Fall out!"

When the Wolves got back to the inn, it took them an impressive fifteen minutes for the Wolves to be suited up and in their saddles. Roland had the men who were to stay behind during the tournament to remain behind and guard the rooms until the Wolves returned, he still didn't trust the innkeeper and he was not about to start now. When every one who was going with the Wolves was ready they gathered just outside of the north gate. When all of the search part was present, Roland gave them their plan, "We will head north until we can pick their trail. The girl was last seen between the city and the village of Tosdhar so will spread out into a thin line and see if we cannot spot anything odd. If you found something strange I want you to stop where you are call out to halt. Understand?" "Yes sir!" And with that, the Wolves then headed out into the plains north of Dhirim.

As planned the Wolves then spread out into one thin line of troops, each person no more then five feet from the two surrounding them. This way the Wolves were able to comb an area about area of about an eighth of a mile on either side of the road towards Tosdhar. Roland placed Deshavi nearby him, so if they spotted tracts, Roland would then have Deshavi lead them to follow the tracts. Behind Roland much to his annoyance, the bard Perry was following close behind him. Perry was a pest that he could not get rid of. Then he wondered if Perry knew anything of Lady Sonadel.

"Perry," said Roland motioning the bard to ride beside him. "What is it, O wise Roland of the Wolves! Defeater of a thousand souls and the wooer of a dozen—" "Stop with the praising, Perry!" Demanded Roland, "I will more then happy to cut off your tongue and make you eat it!" Perry stopped and asked, "Then why pray tell, did you send for me?" "I have a question. What do you know of a Lady Sonadel?"

"Lady Sondadel…" said Perry slowly, trying to jog his memory. "From what I heard she is the type lady who is a man in female form. She loves to hunt and spar, and often refuses all advances to her. Very difficult to control, especially for her father."

"I see." Just then a cry came out from one of the Wolves to the east of them. And the entire company froze where they were. Something was found, "Deshavi, with me, the rest of you hold your position!"

Roland and Deshavi then rode to the person who shouted, it was Voger, the former bandit now turned to Wolf turned to meet his captain and the women who trained him in to become a Wolf. "Voger," asked Deshavi, "what is it?"

"See that disturbed dirt?" Said Voger pointing down to the ground. Roland and Deshavi noticed a line of dirt that seemed to cover some of the tall grass of the plains, as if the dirt below had been disturbed for some reason. "When I was in the bandits, we often brushed up our tracks in order to remain hidden. When we did that, that's what happened to the dirt. It would cover the grass oddly like this."

Roland then dismounted and looked at the dirt. It was very odd. Examining everything with a critical eye, Roland the saw a lump in the dirt, like it was covering something and brushed off the dirt. Roland then pick up an finger of a pine branch and showed it to the two of them. "Look at this."

"It's from a pine," stated Deshavi. "Yep," said Roland, "makes you wonder were it came from. I don't see any trees around here." The other two nodded to agree, Roland then motioned them along the dirt trail. "Dashavi, Voger follow the path of dirt. See where it leads, we will continue along the road and see if we cannot find anything else. If you find something ride back and tell us." Both of them nodded and then spurred their horses forward to tract the dirt path.

Roland and the Wolves then continued their sweep along the road, finding nothing. Their search was halted by Voger riding up quickly to Roland and telling him, "We found tracts, sir!" Roland then had the Wolves gather together and follow Voger. After a brisk ride, the Wolves came upon Deshavi who was off her horse and looking at the ground. Roland then dismounted and lowered to her level.

"What did you find?" He asked. "Tracts of about thirty," she then looked at Roland, "Some women are with them." Roland nodded. "Good work," he then mounted up on his horse and said, "lead the way, Deshavi."

The Wolves then followed the archer as she followed the trail left behind by the suspected kidnappers. Roland was not surprised when the group came to the forest beside the village of Tosdhar. Slowly trekking through the forest, the wolves then came across a camp of bandits who set up their encampment on the far side of the forest beside the east cliffs of the Dhirim plains using a shallow cave in the cliff as a cache for their supplies.

Roland then had the men pull back, while he, Deshavi and Matheld spied on the camp to see what they were up against. Roland and Deshavi both counted about 42 bandits in the camp. Most of them were lightly armored with leather armor. The Roland noticed something about the group of bandits, they were organized more so then any other group Roland had ever seen. They had sentries, and men on watch. These men were clearly militarily trained. Deserters perhaps.

Roland then noticed a group of figures that were being guarded by the men in the back of the camp. He then pulled out his binoculars and zoomed in on them. They were a group of three women, their hands bound behind their backs, and sitting on a log provided for them. It seemed like they had found the Count's daughter.

He then looked over at Deshavi and asked, "What do think? How should we go about this?" "It's hard captain. They have hostages they can be used to bargain with. If they are killed before we can rescue them, we'd have failed." Roland nodded in agreement. "How about you Matheld?" The blonde hair Nord shook her head, "I say we rush in, and kill them all. Put a couple archers on the top of that cliff their and have them rain arrows down on these bandits." Roland sighed, Matheld was a strong fighter, but when it came to strategy, she lacked skills to devise a cunning plan. But her idea to have archers on the cliff got Roland's mind working. "I think I have a plan, but we are going to need a diversion." Roland then smiled evilly, "and I know just who is perfect for it."

In the kidnapper's camp, things were quiet and dull. The men who where not on guard duty were bored because they were ordered to keep a low profile and make as little noise as possible. Their leader was being extra cautious, with good reason, it is not every day that a Count's daughter is kidnapped.

The silence of the camp was broken gradually by the sound out a lute in the distance somewhere from the forest. The men then looked at each other confused, and a little worried to what the captain would say. "Who the hell is playin'?" Shouted the captain looking around the camp. All of the men shook their heads, "no" and looked around for the source of the sound.

They one of the men caught sight of a figure in the woods, slowly walking towards them strumming his lute, and singing a tune. "There sir!" All of the men then turned and saw a man walking towards them. It was the bard Perry, heading to the kidnapper's camp without a care on his face. He sung:

_Oh, I would be a lover,_

_If I could lover her._

_But guess I can't be a lover,_

_Because she's with another!_

All of the men then headed for him, curious and suspicious of the bard that seemed to appear form now where.

As the men watch the bard attentively, Roland's plan then into motion. A group of archers lead by Deshavi, then took their positions on the cliff unnoticed, thanks to the Bard's distraction witch made everyone look the opposite way. Also a group of Wolves, lead by Roland then crept along the face of the cliff and slowly managed to get behind two of the sentries that were guarding the women. When the Wolves managed to get close enough, Roland signaled Klethi and Matheld to get their throwing weapons ready. They only had chance to get both of the sentries in one shot. If they missed, the one or both sentry would alert the other. Klethi pulled out her lucky knife and Matheld then readied her throwing ax. They nodded they were ready and Roland then signaled them to go ahead. In unison the two of them swung at their targets. The closer sentry was the first one to fall, with Klethi's knife in his back. The farther sentry saw his companion fall and turned to see what was the matter, only to catch Mathald's ax in his face.

While the second one died instantly, the first sentry with the knife in his back was fighting off the pain and trying to force a sound of his mouth. But Klethi jumping on the man and covered his mouth with his hand. After preventing him from making a sound, Klethi then pulled out another knife and slit his throat, ensuring his silence. Roland himself didn't like killing more people, even bandits, then he had to. But he knew Klethi felt other wise.

She then signaled that the sentry was finished. Roland acknowledged the signal and then motioned the men forward. The men then stormed into the small cave, which took the captive women completely by surprise, gave a slight startled cry when the Wolves stormed the cave. Roland looked at all of them, there were not three but five of them in total. "Please don't scream, we are here to rescue you. Are you ladies alright?" They looked at each other confused and scared, then one answered for the rest of them firmly, "Yes. We have not been harmed."

Roland smiled, "Good to hear." He and his men then begun to untie the women, "We need you to be as quiet as possible. We've taken care of the sentries but there are still a lot of men out their who will be very upset if they realize we are taking their ladies." All five of them nodded, they understood the risk.

Perry was now the center of attention, being almost surrounded by the bandits who were glaring at him wickedly. But Perry was enjoying the spotlight. But when he looked at his "audience" and his heart dropped, they all had an angry glare, as if they were trying to say if he stayed any longer he would regret it.

"Ah…" said Perry slowly walking away, "I seem to have stumbled into your cozy little camp and ruined your peace and quiet. So…I will…just be going…"

As he slowly backed away, a shout then came from the back of the crowd, "Oi! There freeing to women!" All of the men then turned there heads and saw Roland and the Wolves in the cave. The captain then shouted, "Get them! Don't let them free the women!" All of the men then rushed towards the cave to storm the rescuers.

"Roland!" Shouted Matheld, "They're coming!" Roland then peeked out of the cave and saw the entire company charging at them. "Blast! Wolves outside get ready to defend then. The Wolves then rushed out of the cave, and Roland gave some advice, "Stay in here!" The Wolves then pulled out their weapons and readied for the attack. Then Roland shouted, "Deshavi, archers!" From the top of the cliff a group of archers then appeared out of nowhere.

"Archers! Fire at will!" Shouted Deshavi. The group of archers then opened fire on the charging men and a wave of men fell due to the first volley. While the archers laid waste to the men, Matheld then pulled out a horn and began to blow it. It was the signal for the other Wolves to charge. From the forest the rest of the Wolves came rushing forth towards the camp and the massive body of bandits.

As the archer's arrows peppered the kidnappers, Roland and the others charged ahead to collide with the incoming men. As Roland charged ahead, he singled out the closest man to him that had not been hit by an arrow. Running up to him Roland raised his sword to block a downward strike from the man, he then used his heater shield to bash at the man's chest, the bandit staggered back to recover, Roland then took the chance and lunged at him and forced his sword into the man's chest. The man then screamed in pain, Roland then pulled his blade out forcefully and let the man fall to the ground.

By now the mounted men had collided with the rest of the kidnappers, resulting in a large diminish of their numbers. The remaining kidnappers then knew they were done, they dropped their weapons and cried, "Mercy! Mercy kind sir!"

The fighting ceased and the Wolves took control of the camp. They took twenty men prisoner, and a few sets of leather armor and some odd weapons that would add up daners. As they combed through the camp, Roland stumbled upon something interesting. He found two letters, one sealed and one opened. Looking at the closed one first, he noticed the seal, it resembled Henderson's but he could tell it was fake. Roland had seen Henderson's seal plenty when he had lived in Suno with him and when Henderson sent mission requests to him. Roland wondered what was it's purpose here.

Roland then read the open one, which seemed to be addressed to the captain of these kidnappers. It mentioned Henderson and how the captain would later leave with the girls the letter to frame Henderson for paying for the kidnapping of the Count's daughter. But the letter did not mention anything as to who was behind this.

After reading the letters, Roland then walked to the captured men and asked which one of them was the captain. They all remained quiet and looked at one of the corpses on the battlefield. It was the one Roland left. "So he was the captain," Roland thought to himself. He then sighed, it looked like whomever was behind this would stay hidden for now. But the silver lining was that he prevented Henderson form receiving the blame.

After looting the camp for anything else. He then went over to the ladies to check up on them. "Are all of you alright?" They all nodded, happy to be out of their bindings. "Which one of you is Lady Sonadel?" He asked. One of them then stood up and said, "I am. I want to thank you, sir?" "It's Roland. Roland of the Wolves." He then looked at her, she was the one who answered him in the cave had had a calm tone to it. She was slender but seemed to be well toned, but not in a sickly way but rather a natural sender to it. She had medium length dark hair, and blue eyes that rivaled the sky. She was pretty to Roland.

He then said, "If you do not mind coming with us then. We will escort you to Dhirim." She then sighed sharply, "I suppose my father sent you. Didn't he?" Roland looked at her confused. It sounded as if she didn't want to go to the city. "Don't tell me you preferred being tied up and put in a damp cave all day." "It's better then being my father's "bargaining chip"," she said annoyed. She then crossly looked at Roland and said bitterly, "How much did he pay you? Or are you doing this for free just so you can get in my father's graces?"

"Neither," said Roland coolly, "I'm here because the King asked me to. Your absence has made your father delay the tournament until you are safe." He then smiled, "I wanted to participate, you see. So I have my own reasons why I want you back."

She then turned and asked with great interest, "Did you say the tourney was delayed?" Roland nodded, "Yes it will open until tomorrow, that is if you decide to returned. She then looked to the ground in thought and quickly looked back at him, "Very well. I will allow you to escort me back to the city."

Roland raised a curious eyebrow, she completely changer her tone. "Wouldn't you prefer me to take you to your home castle, it's much closer." Lady Sonadel shook her head, "I'd rather my father sees me to prove that I am fine." Roland sighed, "alright." He then looked at the setting sun, "if we hurry we might be able to reach Dhirim before night fall."

"Excuse me." Came a voice from behind him. Roland turned to see the bard Perry standing behind him. He looked cross at Roland. "What is it now?" Asked Roland. Perry then revealed his lute, which had an arrow through the back of it. "You said that I was out of harms way! But look at what one of you men did to my lute!" Roland then smiled widely and lightly laughed. "It's not funny!" Roland then smiled, "ha you're right it's not." He then held his hand out and suggested, "here give it to me and I can fix it."

Perry then handed Roland the lute. Roland then played with it in his hand. Then in one quick stroke he slammed it against a nearby stump, breaking the lute into two pieces. He then threw the broken lute into the nearby fire that still was going from the kidnappers. Perry just stared at Roland shocked, "Why did you do that?"

Roland then smiled, "Because I am a pyromaniac apparently; who just loves to set things ablaze. Especially cities like Tugla." He then stopped smiling and said annoyed, "Stop spreading these poor excuse for lies you call my tales. If not, then loosing your lute will be the least of your worries." He then turned towards Lady Sonadel and said, "Shall we head out for Dhirim?" She was taken aback by the sudden change of tone in Roland. But see smiled, "By all means."

Wolves began to hustle back out of the forest, and turned south to head for the city before it became dark. As they rode, Lady Sonadel rode up to the side of Roland, on one of the company's spare horses, and asked, "Do you find it a mercy hiring women? Or do you just enjoy their company?" Roland then looked at her, "What brought this on?" He asked. "I noticed you have a decent amount of women fighters in your troop. Some of them are even apart of your inner command. I am just wondering why you hire women as well as men."

Roland shrugged, "I am not picky. If some one whether man or women wants to join, we more often then not let them join." "But why?" "I guess it's because were I am from both men and women are given equal rights." "Oh?" Said the lady doubtfully, "and where is this land that you speak of?" "It's far away and almost impossible to find," replied Roland. "That's not really an answer… it just sounds like a land from your dreams." Roland shrugged, "I'm afraid that is all I can tell you. Any more and you wouldn't believe me." She just snorted at the vague answers he was giving, and dropped the subject.

Within an hour the Wolves had made to the city gates of Dhirim and Roland brought Lady Sonadel and the four other ladies, who where her ladies in waiting, to the castle were the King and the other Counts, including her father, were waiting for her. When her father caught sight of his daughter his old face lit up. "Ah daughter it is good to see that you are alright." "Nice to see that you care," said Sonadel softy, but Roland could hear the tone of sarcasm in her voice.

Count Grainwad smiled, "You must be tired, my dear. Please retire for the night. I have a set of chambers ready for you in the castle somewhere." She sighed but followed her father's will. As she walked out at turned to Roland, "Goodbye Roland of the Wolves. It has been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you in the tournament tomorrow." And with that she left the great hall with her four servants.

When she had left all eye turned to Roland who was know standing in the middle of the room. "Well," started King Harlaus on throne, "You did not disappoint. And you found her in less then a day. I am impressed." Roland shrugged, almost not caring. "Not going to basking in your own triumph?" Asked the King. Roland shook his head. "You seem to make it sound like my men came from hell and back. We didn't she was near the cliffs of Tosdhar, and it took about two hours to find her. It was not that hard."

The king smiled, "Anyway you did what we asked, so here." Count Deglan then walked up to Roland and handed him a coin purse of daners. "2000 daners. For your trouble." Roland then bowed slightly, "Thanks."

The King then got up from the thrown and said, "Send runners for the other mercenary captains. Better let them know they the girl has been found. And tell everyone that this bloody tournament is starting!" A servant then went running out of the door to tell the news. The King then looked Roland and smiled, "I look forward to seeing you fighting tomorrow." The King then turned and headed to his chambers followed by most of the Counts.

Henderson stayed behind and walked over to Roland smiling, "Well that was fast. Even by your standards." Roland smiled, "Thanks. I'm surprised that you are here, actually I thought you would be heading to Suno." "I was," explained Henderson, "but I ran into the king on the way there and decided to travel with him."

Roland nodded, "Henderson," Roland said looking around them making sure they were alone. "I found something interest while rescuing Lady Sonadel." He the pull out the sealed letter and showed it to him. Henderson then looked at the letter cautiously, "It looks like my seal." Roland nodded, "I also found this." He then handed him the opened letter. Henderson read it slowly, making sure he caught every thing. Then he lowered the letter and said, "Looks like someone want to frame me." Roland nodded, "I would have brought the captain on for questioning, but he was one of the ones killed." Henderson nodded, "It's fine. At least you stopped this from getting out." "Do you have any idea who it is from?" "A jealous Count, perhaps. Or maybe a different country's noble trying to get me to leave Swadia. Take your pick."

Roland sighed, "So you have no idea who did this?" Henderson shook his head, "None." The then smiled reassuring him. "Don't worry about it, Roland. I'll show the king this. While we may not find out who did this, we can prevent whomever did this from succeeding in their plot to discredit me. Plus now that his plot failed, king Harlaus will be less inclined to believe any negative rumors that he hears. So it works out well of us."

Henderson then folded the paper and put it in his belt, "I guess I owe you, again." Roland smiled, "yeah. You do." Henderson smiled, "I'll find someway to pay you back." Roland then turned to leave and said, "You better, I'm getting rather tired of saving your ass for free."

"Thanks again Roland." Said Henderson after him. "Best of luck in the tourney tomorrow." Roland looked back and said, "Thanks, Henderson." Roland then walked out of the castle and headed for the inn.

When he got there, he was very grateful that he left the men there. The rooms were still the Wolves', which would help him rest for the next couple of days during the tournament. As he entered into the inn, a cheer came from the Wolves sitting at the tables. Roland smiled and shouted, "As you were men!" He then walked over to a table with Jeremus, Ymira, Haydee and Deshavi sitting together. "Well, that was a full day." Said Roland joining them. They all smiled.

"We got about 532 daners for the kidnappers from the local sheriff when we handed them in." "Did we learn anything from them or was their anything odd?" Ymira shook here head, "No, nothing." Roland sighed; maybe he was hopping to much hoping there was a small clue as to who was behind this. Brushing it aside, Roland informed the table, "The tourney is back on. It will start tomorrow." They all smiled excitedly.

Roland then got up from the table, said goodnight and headed off to bed. It took him awhile to fall asleep in the bed, his thoughts kept spinning around in his head, making it difficult to sleep. But after and hour, sleep over took him. And he had a peaceful sleep for the rest of the night.

-End Notes-

Happy Late Holiday

I tried to get this out yesterday, but thanks to my Thanksgiving meal and football I didn't have a chance to. Anyway to all my American readers have a great Thanksgiving break or day. And for everyone else have a great weekend!

Cheers!

Indogma


	20. The Tournament: Day One

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Tournament: Day One.

After a day's delay, King Harlaus blusterously proclaimed from his spot in the stands for the games to begin, officially kicked off the tournament. His decree was welcomed with loud cries and cheers of excitement. When the cheering quieted down, Harlaus signaled the caller to begin. The crier of the tournament, the closest thing of an announcer for the tournament, began to read off the list of names of the competitors, so the fans could know who was fighting in this tournament.

"These are the names of the 165 competitors that will be competing in the Count Grainwad's tournament: Bryan of Tosdhar, Chelsea of Praven, Wert of Nomar…" the names went on. Under the stands were the competitors waited for the boring introduction to finish.

Roland was leaning against the wall of the arena, drifting between his thoughts and listening to the names of the contenders. He then perked his interest to the list when he heard familiar names, "Ymira of the Wolves, Ferian of the Wolves, Brava of the Wolves, Roland of the Wolves," when his name was called the crowd gave a big cheer, clearly he was the crowd favorite. Ymira, who was standing beside him, teasingly nudged him in the side when she heard the cheering crowd after his name. Roland looked at her and smiled. After another fives minutes the final names were called, "Hagan of the Lions, Ali of the Roses, Calint of Dhirim, and Xerina."

Roland was thrown off by the last name called. Usually they have to give an place of birth to prevent confusion, why did the last name get off the hook?

His thoughts were stopped by one of the tournament officials calling who was up in the first round and what color surcoat to don on. One of the names called was Ymira's, she was in the first round. As she walked over to pick up her surcoat, Roland called out after her, "Good luck out there." She then turned and smiled, "You too Captain!" And with that, she left Roland to begin completing.

Out on the stands, Haydee stood alone amidst a crowd of people all cheering for the first round. She had to since most of the Wolves had left before her, she was unable to find them in time and stand with them, so she had to take next open spot she could find. While she was a fan of tournaments she could not say she enjoyed the fan cheering that came with it, now that she had to stand with the crowds. But she made up her mind that the cheering fans would not ruin her experience.

As she stood there waiting for the first tournament, ignoring the fans around her that were giving her odd looks and her chainmail that she wore and the scar over her right eye, and then she heard someone say, "My, have I stumbled upon a flower amongst a sea of thorns?" She turned her head and saw a well-dressed young man standing to her left. "I must ask the name of such a fair maiden, who would dress like a knight."

Haydee looked at the man, he had long brown hair and a smug smile, "probably a rich merchant's son," she concluded. She could tell from his clothes that he was rich, or at least someone in his family was, and the small hint of spices that come of him made her think he worked with them, and the fact that he had to stand with the commoners despite being able to afford fine clothing show he lacked power and influence of a noble.

Haydee sighed, she just wanted to watch the tournament not deal with suitors. Looking at he tournament field she then said reluctantly, "My name is Haydee."

"Ah, Haydee. The beautiful name of a fair flower somewhere in Caldaria. Fair and beautiful, it seems to be very fitting for you." Haydee looked at him unimpressed, his lies were very easy to see through to realize he was trying to court her. Haydee was a name that her brothers gave her as a nickname as a combination of her two first names. And there was no flower called Haydee in all of Caldaria.

"Care if I join you?" He asked politely, and then he added with a small tone of insult, "There seems to very little here that show decorum like yourself." Before Haydee could interject, he was beside her with a big smile on his face. "My name is Percian Bottlen," he said boasting, expecting her to be impressed. "My father is Pestian Bottlen owner of the Bottlen spice trade. We are one of the richest families in the city, and one of the most prestigious men in Swadia."

"Then why are you standing with the commoners?" Thought Haydee, very tempted to ask that scornfully, but she held it in and kept staring into the field. Then the horns sounded, and the first contenders walked on to the field, which made the entire crowd go mad. Haydee then smiled excited.

"So you are a fan of the tournament?" Asked Percian. In that instant all of Haydee's excitement dissipated, and she was reminded of the pest to the left of her, practicality drooling over her. "Yes," she said carefully. "I enjoy watching them, especially watching ones where the captain of the Wolves competes in."

"You know, I actually know the captain of the Wolves quite well." (Clearly he didn't look at her surcoat.) Haydee then looked at him, and asked, "Do you? What's he like?"

Percian smiled, thinking he had final had something she wanted, "Oh you know. The stereotypical blade for hire. Big, tall, and could split a man in half in one swing. One false look at him and he will have you head. Fortunately, he happens to be on my father's pay and will do anything I say." Haydee now was cross, not only was he lying to her but he was giving Roland a bad name, she couldn't take it any more.

"Strange," she said calmly. "What?" Asked Percian curious. She then turned and smiled, "I've known Roland for at least three years, and he has never been any of what you describe him to be." "And how would you know this?" Percian asked not believing her. She then faced him completely so that her emblem of the Wolf was clearly visible to him. "Care to ask me that again?" Replied Haydee almost threatening him.

Percian looked the emblem and realized what she was. Haydee then expect Percian to take the hint and leave embarrassed. But in stead, he started to laugh, softly at first then it grew to a large laughter, inhaling deeply his laughter stopped and he stare in her eyes with what Haydee could best describe as degrading. "So you are a Wolf?" Haydee nodded. The man then snorted, "And you think I care about that?" He then smiled amused, "Frankly," then he added a harsh tone, "girl, I believe your troop are living in some of fantasy, that women are equal to men in some way." He then stepped grabbed her chin, and said quickly but in a harsh tone, "Maybe it is my responsibility to remind you."

Haydee stared at him with anger brewing in eyes, she was not afraid. Not of him or of his threats. But she kept silent not saying anything. "Look around you girl, the world is dominated by men. As it should be. Every noble, every knight, every king is a man! You women's place is to support men. And forget the story of the ancient Queens that once ruled Caldaria, they are nothing more then myths!"

Haydee then reached for a dagger she kept in her belt, and held the tip to the man's chest, not forcing any pressure on it, but pushing it enough in his chest for him to feel it. He then looked at the dagger and laughed, "Ha, you threaten me with a knife?' He then held is arms out, "Go ahead. Kill me, wound me, or even hurt me. My father will make sure you are stoned to death, if you are lucky." Haydee wanted to force the knife into him, and end his smug smile and his beliefs. But she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't prove him wrong.

He smiled, "Hm, you can't do it can you?" He then leaned in close and said, "I'm right and you know it. You can't change the world around you."

Then a man's voice came from behind Percian, "I'd be careful with what you say, son. I've never known words to kill a man but I'll sure they often helped." "This does not concern you!" Said Percian. "Oh but it does." "I said this does not concern you, whelp!" A hand then came down on Percian's shoulder, "Now you are calling me names. You really need to control that mouth of yours."

Percian had enough; he then swung around slapped the man in the jaw and shouted, "Mind your own business, nave!" After looking to see whom he hit, Percian then began to stutter and a scared look came over his face, "Count Henderson!"

Henderson was rubbing where Percian hit his jaw, with two of his men standing behind him looking crossly at the young man for striking their lord. "I suppose you realize what you have just done. Striking a Count of Swadia is punishable by the removal of the hand you used to strike me with. And to add that, you called me… what was it again "Whelp" and "nave". Back were I am from, we call that, "three strikes, and you are out.""

"My lord," pleaded the young man, "I did not know it was you." "Of course you didn't, but that still does not excuse your behavior." Percian then fell to the ground and began to grovel, "My lord! Please forgive me! I will do anything to be reconciled!"

Henderson smiled, "Alright, what I want you to do is very simple. I want you to apologize to the girl behind you." Percian's head shoot up from groveling in disbelief. Henderson just assured him, "Yes that's right apologize to her."

Slowly Percian turned around and faced Haydee again. She could tell every bone in body hated doing this, but he did not want to face the consequences. He then looked away from her and mumbled, "Sorry." "Louder and look into her eyes," commanded Henderson. He the looked into her eyes, his filled with hatred and fear and said clearly, "I'm sorry." Henderson sighed, "Clearly that is all we are going to get out of you. So I guess that will do." He then had Percian face him. "Now, I want you to leave this tournament stay away from it as long as it is here. And if I catch you tormenting anyone else in this city while you are here. I will make your life very difficult for you." He then smiled threateningly, "understand?" Percian nodded and quickly left them.

When he had disappeared, Henderson turned and saw Haydee still holding her knife. "You better put that away, you could poke someone's eye out." Realizing she still had it, she then put away saying, "Sorry mi'lord." Henderson just smiled. "You were wise to try and avoid him. Percian is a man I would not marry my worst enemy's daughter too." He then took Percian's spot beside her. "Arrogant, brash, and very condescending. I'd be worried about him inheriting his father's estate, but he is a terrible merchant who relies on his father far too much. So I doubt he will amount to anything when his father goes."

Haydee then smiled at the thought. Then asked, "Forgive me for asking mi'lord. But why are you here?" Henderson smiled, "You mean why am I not up their with the rest of the Counts and King, talking politics and strategy? It's because I rather enjoy the atmosphere down here with the crowd. The smell of ale and sweat." Then he added, "And please, call me Henderson. I grow tried hearing "mi'lord" every day."

Henderson then signaled for his two guards to join them. He then gave Haydee a tried look at them, "My bodyguards. King Harlaus is making me have them were ever I go to be sure I do not get captured again."

Haydee nodded understanding his frustration. She then looked down into the arena, it seemed like the first round had not started yet. A horse was acting strange and needed to be replaced with another. "I have to admit, that was quite the experience escaping through the Sultanate." Then he looked at her, "But I am sure it was more so for you."

Haydee then reflected back on all that had happened to her over the last week or two. She had returned to her homeland, visited her once castle home, made peace and reconciled with her uncle, and visited Hardeth's grave. It certainly was a trip she wouldn't forget.

"Yeah," she agreed, "It was." "I bet. I was surprised to hear that you were related to the Sultan, Roland never mentioned it to me. And I can respect why he would keep it from me." He smiled, "He wanted to protect you." Haydee then blushed a little, and returned her gaze back to the field. "Believe it or not," continued Henderson, "I was one the fence as to what I thought you would do when your Uncle forgave you. I was half expecting you to return with him to Shariz." "Why?" Asked Haydee, "The Sarrdak Desert is no longer my home. I am a Wolf, my place is with them." "I wonder… if there is not more to it then that?" Asked Henderson thinking out loud.

"What do you mean by that?" Asked Haydee. "I mean did you stay because of a group of people, or just Roland?" Haydee then flinched at the question, "Roland gave me the Wolves to be apart of, he helped me whenever I needed help, and —as you said— he protected me. So of course I feel like I owe him." "I didn't mean that you feel that you need to repay him. I'm asking if you like him or maybe even love him."

Haydee turned at stared at the ground. She herself didn't know what she felt. Then she retreated to what she knew she felt, "I am grateful to him." "As am I." Retorted Henderson, "He's saved me from a Khantate dungeon, and just prevented a fake letter from getting into the wrong hands that could have ruined me. I owe him, but I am not unsure as to how I feel." Then he leaned in close and whispered, "I'm right aren't I?"

Haydee merely froze in a stare with Henderson. She slowly inhale and was about to answer, but then a loud horn sounded form the arena, the round was about to begin. The crowd then began to cheer loudly. Henderson smiled leaning away, "Saved by the tournament." But then he said, "You may not been able to give me an answer. But you are going to need to find answer for yourself one day." He laughed and added cheerfully, "But for now enjoy the tournament and worry about it later."

Haydee nodded, and turned to watch the beginning round. But she wish she could follow the advice of Henderson, but now her mind was running through what she felt for Roland. Was he her protector and captain or was there more to it? She did not know.

Meanwhile, Roland was sitting patiently under the stands for his turn to compete, with the set of padded armor and the tournament helmet on. Ymira was in the first round with twenty other people to be split into three teams. It had taken a bit longer for the round to start since one of the horses to be used became spooked and unusable for the round.

As he waited, he looked around at he other competitors, most of them had their helmets on and he could not see their faces. But in the section that was visible to him he could tell some apart from the other. He was to first separate the women who were competing from the men, they were obvious: just look at the body sizes. Then Roland could tell the inexperienced from the ones who have won a tournament before. Usually the inexperience fighters will know little to no one, and then to be more reserved then most of the other contenders. On the other hand, the more experienced fighters were less shy and had often met many of the other fighters and sometimes made friends with them. And the final group was those who had one a tournament before. They seemed to swagger, (it is a real English word! I swear it!), about and have very little time for anyone else. They were the most obvious since they were the fewest and most brash of the three.

In the group that Roland could see that most of the group was inexperience, with the occasional small group of experienced fighters mixed in. As far as champions, Roland could tell that there was one in the group. It was Hagen, Roland knew it was him because he recognized his booming voice him boasting of the last tourney he won. Roland just stayed sitting not really paying attention to the yarn that Hagen was proclaiming.

As Roland waited there, he noticed a fighter walk from nowhere and stop in front of him. "You Roland?" He slowly looked up through his helmet and saw a fighter fully dressed in the tournament armor and helmet looking down on him.

"Depends on who is asking," he replied vaguely, "Do I know you?" "No," replied fighter in a light gruff voice, "but you will by the end of the tournament." "Oh, really?" Asked Roland interested. The fighter nodded, firmly. Roland smiled, but the helmet blocked the other fighter from seeing it. "I am called Xerina, and I intend to win the tournament." "So she was the final fighter without a home city," thought Roland.

"Still," said Roland, "I'm curious as to why you are not talking over their with Hagen, he seems to have won a few tourneys before this one." "Not as many as you," countered Xerina. "Hegan himself has won one in life, most of the other champions here have one at most two. You have one five tournaments in the last two years, that makes you the biggest threat here." Roland chuckled: he had a fan. "I'm afraid you're mistaken," corrected Roland. "I've won four tournaments, and came in second in one. You're off by one." "And yet you talk as though coming in second in any tournament is nothing." Roland smiled, the one he came in second place was the first ever tournament he had been in.

"Well," said Roland, "I'll be sure to keep and eye out for you." "You better," boasted the fighter, "Lose sight of me and I'll be sure to add another second place to your record." And with that the fighter turned and walked away towards a nearby gate.

As Roland watched Xerina disappear into crowd of fighters he laughed to himself, "Interesting." The fighter clearly did her homework. She knew his record almost perfectly as well as all of the other contenders' records. And she was able to pick Roland out while he wore his helmet and armor. He wondered how she fought, and how she would stack up against the other competitors.

As he sat their pondering on Xerina, a loud cheer roared from the arena and the stands above. They were followed by the sound of the sound ending horn. The first round was over. Roland then slowly got up and walked over to the nearest gate. As it opened the team that was still standing walked in first. They wore red surcoats. "Ymira's team," thought Roland.

The victors walked over to the weapon racks to drop off their practice weapons. As they did, Ymira removed her helm and gave a relieved sigh. "Ymira!" Said Roland walking up to her, "How'd it go?"

"Well, captain." She smiled. "I got two on the blue team and one on the green. So I think I am set to enter the next round." In the team based rounds, people progressed based on merit rather then if one remained standing. In each round, six people were selected based on how much they did to the other teams. How they did was based on a "point" system, every "kill" or "aid of a kill", (or an assisted for you COD players), resulted in a point, and the six with the highest point value would progress. One could even be "killed" in the round and yet their achievements in the round would help then pass the next round. It was a nice system and it made everyone try to defeat everyone else in order to proceed from one round to the next.

"For then next round!" Shouted the crier, "On the green team, Roland of the Wolves,…" Roland then turned to Ymira and said, well, "looks like I am up." "Good luck, Captain." Cheered Ymira. Roland waved as he walked to the gate were the green team would meet.

As he got there, he noticed that Hagen was their asking each fighter, "Which one of ya is Roland!?" Roland sighed and walked over to the gate. Hagen then caught sight of him and asked, "Hey! You Roland?" "Yeah, I am. Have we met?" Asked Roland playing dumb. Hagen then walked up to him and looked down on Roland. Hagen was easily six foot four, (193 cm) compared to Roland who was just shy of being six foot, (180 cm). "I'm Hagen, leader of the Lions. And you robbed me," said Hagen threateningly. "How?" "By taking my job! I was gonna find Grainwad's daughter and I would have if you hadn't gotten mixed in!" "Well, that is the live of a Mercenary," reasoned Roland. Hagen then leaned in close and threatened, "I'm gonna beat you so bad in this tournament, just to get you back for that! I'm not in this round, but the next round we are in, you're mine."

"I'll be sure to remember that," said Roland lightly, not intimidated by his threats. Hagen just snorted and slowly yet forcefully walked away from the gate. Roland watched him for a moment then let him disappeared got ready to compete in the second round. After he donned on his green surcoat, he then picked up a two handed sword. While he was not the most skilled with it as a one handed sword, he felt like trying it out and getting some practice in with it this round.

After the field was cleared of the wounded and the broken or abandoned weapons, the teams went on to the field. There were four teams of six this round. Each one readied themselves in their assigned corner. As they waited for the opening horn Roland took a quick look around at the other teams. The red team and the blue team both had horse men, and would be the bigger threats in this round. The yellow team on the other hand, had three of its team with bows. While they were a wildcard, they were on the opposite end of the field and the least threat to the green team, for now. And as far as the green team went, Roland was the only really seasoned fighter amongst them, most of them seemed to be nervous, and very antsy. Roland sighed, he had his work cut out for him this round.

After a minute of pause, the horn for the fighters to ready themselves sounded, then when all teams shouted ready. The second horn sounded, and the round begun.

Roland's plan to begin with was to follow the larger group of his team to a side and flank the team they were attacking. Nearly all of his team headed to the left, were the red team was, so he ran behind them to attack the red team. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one lone green fighter charge off in the opposite direction towards the blue team. He was brave, but foolish.

As the five green members charged into the three red of the red, heavy fighting ensued. While outnumbering the red, the four green team members' inexperience caught up with them. They swung rapidly and with their weapons and did not try to hit the other team. On the other hand, the three red team members were more experienced, and carefully landed their blows on the green team in order to cause the most damage. After a few swings, three of the green team were down, and the three red then slowly begun to creep up on the remaining one, who had taken up a defensive stance.

Then one of the reds charged ahead and begun to swung away at the remaining green while the other two watched in amusement. To bad they did not notice, that the green team was short one. As the two red watched with amusement, the farthest one back from the remaining green felt a hard it on his back and then fell to the ground out cold. The other red swung around and saw a green fighter behind him, armed with a two handed sword. It was Roland: his plan had worked. The remaining free red tried to turn to counter, but Roland gave him a hard kick to his backside, causing the red to fall forward a step. Quickly recovering the red then swung around and tried to sweep his blade into Roland's side. But Roland then knelled on one knee and let the blade pass over his head. Then, still kneeling, Roland swept his blade at the Red's knee and hit it hard. The red let out a loud cry in pain, and Roland leaped up and kicked the red in the chest, hitting him below the diaphragm and knocking the wind out of the red; which cause the fighter to lose all of his breath and black out.

Roland then ran up to the remaining red, oblivious to him and still fighting the green fighter, and swung his heavy blade just below the man's neck. The red then groaned in pain and fell to his knees then to the ground out. Roland then looked at the remaining green and asked, "You alright?" The green jumped from the question, but nodded quickly.

Then two practice arrows flew by Roland's head and struck the other green, knocking him out. Roland swung around and saw two of the yellow team, armed with bows about 30 yards away from him. Charging towards them, Roland then begun to weave side-to-side making him a tougher target for the archers. When he got within ten feet of the first archer, Roland then lunged towards the archer and swung his sword down of the man's shoulder. The man staggered backwards from the blow, but was not defeated. He then reached for his knife but Roland was already upon him with a second swing from his two handed sword. Now the man fell to the ground, beaten and out cold.

As Roland took a breath in, but an arrow from the second archer reminded him that he was not out of the woods yet, by hitting him in the upper thigh. While the arrows in the tournament were flat headed with a piece of padded cloth on the end so they would not pierce anything, they still hurt when they struck. Roland then weaved one last time before charging towards the remaining yellow archer. The yellow then drew is knife to fight back. Seeing Roland prepare to swing his sword, the yellow raised his knife to block it as if it was a short sword. Roland was able to swing through the knife and struck the man's upper shoulder. The yellow then dropped his knife and he grabbed his shoulder in pain. Roland then used the wooden pommel of his blade and struck the man in the helmet, which was the final blow needed to end the man.

Roland then took a quick glance of the battle arena around him. He then realized he was the only green left. Apart from him their were two yellows and a red fighting the remain three blues of in a corner of the arena. As he looked over, he then heard the odd sound of galloping hooves. Quickly glancing over his shoulder, he then saw a lone blue rider charging towards him with a lance threateningly aiming for him. Reacting quickly, Roland then ducked and rolled to the side of the horse's path and managed to dodge the incoming lance.

The blue rider then lowered his lance further to try and hey Roland, however the rider was inexperienced with the lance and dug it into the ground. The impact the that lance had with the ground forced the rider to fly off of his horse and land on his back behind it, with the lance planted into the ground. The rider then struggled to get back on his feet, but Roland saw his chance and ran up blue and hit him across the head with his sword. If the sword had been real, it would have went through the man's helmet and cut his head open, but it was made of wood so it just hit his head hard, and knocked the blue fighter out.

After making sure the man was defeated, Roland looked over to the arena and saw the final fighters, one blue and a yellow, slugging it out on the other side of the arena. He then started heading for them to end this round.

As he approached the two remaining fighters, the two of them were having a slugging match between them. Neither one quite willing to give in to the other, but were a breath away from fainting from the blow they took from each other. Then the remaining yellow saw an opening and lunged forward and struck the blue on the head, finishing the fighter. The yellow fighter then raised his arms to cheer on the crowd, as if he was the last fighter to be standing. But when the cheer did not come, instead the fighter then turned around and saw Roland in front of him with his sword ready, and before the man could react, Roland's sword had already kissed his helm and he went falling to the ground, knocked out cold. As Roland stood there, the only one on the field stand, the stands of people remained quite, mainly because the crowd waited to hear the man's name.

Then one of the pages ran up to Roland and asked, "Your name, sir?" "Roland of the Wolves," he replied panting. The paged then ran to the crier of the tournament with his name, which then the crier then shouted his name, "The definite winner of this round, and who progresses to the next is… Roland of the Wolves!" Then a loud unanimous cheer came form the stands cheering that seemed to shake the very stands themselves. They then began to chant his name, "Roland! Roland! Roland!" He then gave them a small bow and then walked off the arena calmly.

As he exited the arena, and entered into the area under the stands, Roland could feel everyone's eyes were upon him, as if he was dressed in gold clothing. "What?" he asked lightly. Then everyone's eye averted from him and they went about their business. Roland smiled in his helmet and walked over to the weapons rack to drop off his sword and surcoat.

As arrived at the rack he herd the crier call out the next round. Amongst the names was "Hagen of the Lions!" Roland's ears perked up when he heard Hagen's name. After he dropped off his weapon and team color, he found Ymira sitting in a corner quietly playing with her hair and said, "I'm going to watch some of the rounds, care to join?" Ymira smiled, "Sure, captain."

The two then went up a pair of stair that led to a part of the stands set aside for the fighters so they could watch the tourney. As they climbed up the stairs, Ymira noticed, "This is the first time I have known you to want to watch the games, Roland." Roland grinned, "It is not every day I fight a man like Hagen. If I do fight him I would prefer to know his style. "Know thy enemy," as they say." Ymira laughed, "always trying to be one step ahead." "Of course," laughed Roland.

When they arrived at the stands, Roland removed his helm to get a better view of the field. He didn't like to show his face in a tourney, but it was necessary to see the field fully. Hopefully he would not be recognized or pointed out.

"Watching the tourney? Worried that you will lose and you need to spy on the competition? Tsk, tsk. I thought you were stronger then that." Roland sighed sharply, after hearing the voice of a familiar enemy. He was not surprise she would find him just to taunt him. He then turned saw the red haired former Wolf. "Ali," he said with a false smile holding back the anger. "I thought I could feel a knife in my back. Now I know why."

Ali smiled wickedly, "Charming, like always Roland. I hear you have been running around the Sarrdak Desert like a headless chicken, with Henderson in tow, setting fire to large cities. I must ask if they are true?" "Don't worry," he assured her, "I've stopped the source of those rumors." Hopefully Perry got the message. "I'm not as heartless as you think I am." Then Roland then remembered something humorous that he could counter with, "By the way, how was the village of Yaragar? I hope you took care of those bandits."

Ali then clenched her teeth, "It was very… quiet." She said with an angry twitch in her eye. "Thanks to you…"

Roland smiled back. "Glad to have helped. I also hope your little search yesterday was productive." Ali again smiled, "Oh, why are you so mean to me? I'd have thought you'd have gotten over it by now." "Some things one can never forgive. And frankly you have given me no reason to forgive you." Then Ali looked Roland with a serious face, "Roland, do you forget whose fault it was? It certainly wasn't mine, yet here you are placing your anger on me." Then the horn of the round was sounded, warning that the next round was about to begin. "Just remember who betrayed who." Ali then recovered and said, "Well I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a tournament to win." She then winked at Roland, "Stay out of trouble Roland."

Roland then watched her leave and angrily turned around to face the arena. On his face Ymira could see anger. "I hate it when she is right." Said Roland. "It was two years ago, Roland." Ymira said reminding him, "It was a different time, place, and a different Roland. You're better now. Much better."

Roland then turned to Ymira and looked at her, with doubting look in his eyes. "Have I changed, Ymira?" She smiled, "Of course. The Roland I once knew took many stupid mistakes, and still was naïve. You're not naïve anymore, sir. And rescuing Henderson proved that more then anything."

She then looked at her captain who was smiling gratefully at her. "Thank you, Ymira." She smiled back. "You are welcome captain." The two Wolves then returned their gazes to the tourney field below to watch the next round.

The round was a very typical round in these kinds of tournaments. One team dominated all of the others and slowly dwindled down the remaining teams often by attacking one team and then moving as one team to another. And it was no surprise that it was Hagen's team that was doing it. While watching the fight, Roland could tell from the mere size of Hagen was he was and was able to learn his fighting style. He as a hard hitter and a brawler, self-taught and very sloppy fighting stances but his size and strength made up for that. Roland could predict he could break a man's arm with one of those practice weapons alone. Which it appeared he did a few times this round. When the round was over, Hagen proudly waved his hands in the air getting the crowd to cheer for him. Roland sighed, a tough strong man with a giant ego to boot, Roland had his work cut out for him if he wanted to win.

Roland and Ymira decided to stay for the next round after hearing Ali was competing in it. They were not cheering for her, but wanted to see if her style of fighting had changed since she had left the Wolves. I didn't. Ali's style was the same, she had quick attacks that did not bear a lot of strength behind them, but she could strike at a fast pace, and made up for the small damage she delivered. After that round, Roland then started to head for the stairs but the he heard the name, "Xerina," in the next round and asked Ymira to stay and watch it with him.

Ymira was puzzled, "Why are we staying again?" "Because the fighter Xerina has perked my interest," explained Roland. "First, she was able to single me out from all of the competitors, even with my helmet on. Second, she knew my record of tournament wins, four times first place and one time in second place. So she clearly has done her research on me. And finally, she seems very confident within herself. Not in a arrogant way, but as if she knows what she can do and knows she can win." He then sneered, "Which makes me want to see what she can do as well."

"Well might as well stay," sighed Ymira looking at the sun that was now in the west and the reddening sky, "Is will probably be the final round for today anyway." Then she asked, "Wait, didn't you win five?"

Roland shook his head slowly, "I don't think so."

Ymira then counted them on her hand, "You won: once in Praven, once in Thir, twice in Suno, and once in Uxkhal. An you got your second place in Yalen. That's five" Roland then remembered, "Oh yeah. Hmm." He then laughed, "I must have told her wrong then."

As the round was in the final moments of preparation, Roland then tried to single out Xerina from the yellow team, the team that she was on. After finding her, he then kept a close eye on her. When the horn sounded, the four teams of six then rushed towards each other in a large mad dash. As the round begun Xerina was very cautious of her moves, she was advancing slowly and behind the yellow group. Then the yellow team and the blue rushed into each other. When the groups clashed, Xernia then leaped into action, doing a similar move that Roland did, she then flanked the blues from behind and caught them by surprise.

As she struck, Roland noticed her fighting style: it was clean, intense, precise and perfected. "She was trained," noticed Roland. "Hm?" Asked Ymira who wasn't listening. "Look at the yellow behind the blues, she has had professional training." Ymira then watched the fighter and noticed he was right. Ymira was able to pick up on small details that could give away training. Usually when a fighter trains himself/herself, they are more sloppily with their body movement and like to waste energy, but a trained person will place all of their energy into the swing and try to waste very little into anything else unless they needed to. Xerina had that control that showed training.

"Strange," said Ymira. If she had been trained, it was an odd situation that would imply someone trained a girl. While it was not unheard of, (after Roland started doing it with the Wolves and the Roses did it as well), it was very rare for someone to train a girl to the skill level that Xerina was.

"Yes," agreed Roland, and added with a smile on his face, "but very interesting."

After the yellow team made quick work of the blue team, they them charged at the clashing red and green team. The as the three teams meet, the reds were the victims of a double sided attack, and were quickly dispatched. This left the green team and the yellow team. And the green team was already three members down in the fighting with the Reds; making them easy prey for Xerina and the other yellow. Within a minute the round was over, with all of the yellow team standing.

While receiving cheers from the crowd, Xerina caught sight of Roland and pointed her blade at him, as if she was challenging him. Roland merely stared at the fighter blankly not showing any emotion. After a moment of staring at each other, Xerina then broke her stare first and followed the fellow yellows. Roland and Ymira watched her leave the arena. When she was gone, Ymira turned to Roland and said, "It seems like she has it in for you. Any idea why?" Roland shook his head, "Nothing comes to mind."

"People of Dhirim!" Shouted the tournament crier, "The king has declared that the final round for today! We will continue it at noon in the 'morrow!" "Well I guess we'll have to wait for tomorrow," concluded Roland, "let's head back to the inn."

Ymira gave a quick nod, and the two of them then left the stands and went blow to remove their padded armor and helmets. The first day of the tournament was finished, and their were still many fights left to come.

-End Notes

Classes again?!

I might be late getting the next couple of chapters out due to classes picking up again, and I need to focus.

Sarrinad, Sarradak or Sarrdak?

As Trapinchh mentioned in a review there seems to be some confusion with this so I thought I would clarify. The map I am using is termed by the Mount and Blade forum as the "official" Warband map, (here's the link: . ), and I have been using that as a reference for the geographical locations. On the map it is called the Sarrdak Desert and I have a sneaky suspicion that the term Sarrinad is a way of saying a person from "Sarrdak" like being from Turkey makes you "Turkish". But it's only a theory.

Cheers

Indogma.


	21. The Invitation

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Invitation

Dhirim was booming with activity after the tournament ended for the day, the streets and inns were full of watchers of the tourney celebrating their champion's or friend's win in the first of round of the tournament, or trying to get some food or drink. Either way, Roland and the other wolves who were competing had to push through the crowds just to get back to their inn. When they arrived back at the inn, they found the rest of the Wolves already celebrating Roland and Ymira's advance into the next round. As the two of them walked into the crowded inn, the Wolves raised their pints and cheered. Roland smiled, "You give me too much credit!"

As the day slowly dimmed into dusk, the inn began to settle down. Most of the people who were not staying in the inn were now leaving in order to return to their lodgings or find a place to spend the night. Which left only the patrons of the inn, the majority of which were the Wolves. Roland, Jeremus Alayen, Deshavi and several other Wolves were trapped in a game of Calradia poker. Jeremus was leading the group with the most denars, but Roland was closing the gap. Around the table another group watched, with extreme interest, either to learn the game or watch the competition. It was like having a private tourney of their own. In fact of most the Wolves hoped that, of those two, Roland or Jeremus would win, Roland always gave the men who lost their money it back at the end of the game, (cause he really didn't need it), and Jeremus would use is earnings often to buy better medical supplies. Plus a well-paid surgeon often meant better service.

As the game progressed, it came down between Roland and Jeremus. Two of the stronger players, it would be a fun game. Then from the front of the inn, a figure walked in. It was a young page from the castle, looking around meekly, as if he was out of his element. He then stopped Klethi, holding a pint in her hand, and asked, "Excuse me, ma'am. But would you know where is Roland of the Wolves? Is this his lodgings for the tournament?"

Klethi turned to the page slowly. Her face was as red as her hair thanks to the three pints she had had before. She then leaned in close and asked in a drunken voice, "What does you knows 'bout Roland?" The page then stepped back and said, "I-I bring invitations from the nobles to invite him to the feast at the castle this night." "Oh, that…" said Klethi disappointed, although she didn't know why. She then pointed to the table were Roland was sitting, but had trouble keeping her hand steady and kept point to every one but Roland, "He's…" she pointed to Haydee, then Ymira, Matheld, Alayen, Jeremus, and Deshavi. She then waved off in the direction of the table and slurred, "'ver tere."

The page nodded, thanked her and quickly darted off in that direction glad to be rid of the drunken girl. He then walked up to the table with all the people crowding around it and began to ask each of the men around the table if anyone of them were Roland. One of the men, after being asked if he was Roland then shouted, "Oi, captain! A boy's here for you!" Roland then looked up from his game and sighed. "Well then men, make room for him." All of the men took a step away from the page, making an aisle for the boy to Roland.

When the boy first saw Roland he then swallowed hard. He had sent messages to mercenaries before, and they never were friendly. He expected this to be no different. He then slowly walked up and stood in front of Roland, who was looking emotionless at the boy. The boy then stuttered, "A-are you," then he panicked, "the Wolves of the Roland?" The boy then kicked himself mentally, he screwed up. He then heard a loud laughter from the men around him, and closed his eyes in shame. He then peeked at Roland expecting him to be furious. Instead the boy saw Roland half-smiling.

He straightened up in his chair, "Now that was the first time I was ever called that." "I'm sorry sir!" Blurted the page. Roland merely laughed, "Haha, it's fine." He then saw the look in the boy's eyes. "Are you nervous?" The boy gave a small nod. Roland smiled, he was once a page in Henderson's court, he could relate, talking to mercenaries in taverns was his least favorite duty. He then said calmly, "You can do it. Just take several deep breaths and start again. Ok?"

The page did as he requested, and started again, "Are you the one called Roland of the Wolves?" Roland smiled, "There you go." He then said, "Yes, I am Roland of the Wolves. I take it you have a message for me?" The page nodded, "Yes sir," said the page reaching into his satchel and pulling out a stack of letters, "Invitations for the feast being held tonight."

Roland then looked heavily at the stack of letters, and the men jeered at each other. Roland then plopped the stack of letters on the table and asked Jeremus, "You take half?" The surgeon nodded, and took the top half of the pile. Both of them began to go through the letters by name, "Count Montewar, Count Devlian, Count Despin." "It seems like the entirety of the nobles want you there," laughed Jeremus. He then pulled out one letter and smiled, "Here's one from the king himself," said Jeremus placing it on the table in front of Roland He then looked at it unimpressed and went back to his half.

The page then looked at Roland like he had just committed treason, "Aren't you going to read it sir?!" Roland shook his head, "I've been invited to enough feast to know this: they say the exact same thing every time. I don't have to read it because I know what it is going to say." Roland then pulled a letter from his stack and looked at the name, Lady Elina. Roland sighed; his "stalker" was here in the city. He knew he would regret opening the letter and reading it, but he did anyway. After breaking the wax seal, he then begun to read the letter:

_My Dearest Roland, _

_You have won my heart over again today with your skill you showed today in the tournament. I missed you the least time you visited Uxkhal. How can I help you understand that my feeling for you are not false but truer then—_

Roland got no further. He crumpled the letter in his hand and threw it on the table. He didn't want to know what else it is said.

Finishing his stack Jeremus then said, "Nearly half the counts and their daughters or sisters want you to go to the feast tonight." He then looked at Roland and sighed, "But I bet you won't go." "Jeremus," said Roland still looking though his stack of letters, "it's not really a bet if you know the outcome already then is?" Jeremus laughed, "True, but I'd still make the bet."

Roland smiled, "So would I." he then took out a invitation from Henderson, opened it—it was in Henderson's hand— and begun to read it:

_Roland, _

_I'm taking the time to write this invite because I know you will read this. I know I cannot force you to come to the feast tonight but I would hope that you would come to humor me. Count Grainwad, would like to thank you personally for saving his daughter, and he would find it a slap to his honor if you did not come on his request. _

_Also the Nobles seem to think, now after you rescued me from Tulga, that I have some sort of pull on you. That if I bark enough, you will be bow to my every need. Now we both know this is not true, but the counts seem to have it set in their minds that that is true. And now the king believes it. So if you do not come I may look bad in the eyes of the king and counts. I know I am in no position to be asking favors but I was hoping you could come as a show of good faith. _

_I have told the other Counts that I have not written you an invite, and if you come in on your own, it will dispel these rumors and I will never ask you to come to another feast that you do not want to come to. _

_Now I understand that Lady Elina will be at the feast tonight. Should you come, I promise to take one for the team and keep her occupied for the rest of the night and prevent you from seeing her. _

_It is your choice in the end, though I hope you will come tonight and prevent a large headache that we both could have with this— you being my dog— mentality the nobles have. _

_Henderson. _

Roland then scratched his head at the letter. He was "Henderson's dog?" The idea of him and his group being branded to Henderson like that did not sit well with him. But it still was not enough to motivate him to go, even if Elina was being taken care of. Roland shook his head, "There will be other times to disprove the rumors," thought Roland.

Roland was about to give up on the rest of the invites when a name stuck out of the list of names, Lady Sonadel. Roland then raised an eyebrow to the letter. He would not have expected one form her. Slowly rereading the name again to be sure it was the same name, he opened the letter. It read,

_To Roland of the Wolves, _

_To begin I must apologize for my behavior on the ride back to the city. I hope you understand that I was under unusual circumstances. It was wrong of me for accusing you of being in my Father's pockets, and I wish to apologize in person to you at the feast tonight. _

_Also I must mention your performance in the tournament. Compared to the rest of the men, your performance was a welcomed treat from the usual slash and hack that the tournament usually brings. It was refreshing to see a true fighter for once. And I wish you the best of luck in the next round. You may need it. _

_Respectfully Yours_

_Lady Sonadel_

Roland then looked at the letter cautiously and reread two more times before lowering it. It was and odd letter. Short and to the point, which he expect from Lady Sonadel's attitude. But there was something else off.

"Jeremus," Asked Roland, still looking at the letter, "You remember Lady Sonadel from yesterday right?" The surgeon nodded, "Ay, I remember her. Why?" "Did she seem like the type to apologize to anyone?" Jeremus laughed, "I'd think you'd have an easier time making a stone bleed then see her say sorry to anyone!" Roland nodded, that's what he thought as well. He then looked at the page and smiled, "I suppose you are waiting for my answer?"

The boy nodded, "Yes sir! I am here you escort you to the palace. Should you accept." Jeremus smiled, he suspected Roland would say "no." But it surprised him when Roland said: "Alright, give me five minutes to get ready, and you can escort me to the feast."

When Roland came back down from his room he was wearing a chainmail suit with a new Wolf surcoat over it. The page then asked, "Sir, you do realize that this is a formal feast?" Roland laughed, "Boy, give the people what they expect. They know me to be a mercenary, so why disappoint them." While Roland did have a set of formal contemporary clothes for feast, he rarely wore it. He'd prefer the feel of his chainmail and surcoat. He then looked over to Jeremus and said, "You are in charge until I get back." He then looked at the men and joked, "Behave yourselves Wolves!" The men then laughed and jeered. "Ahh, yous knows we will!" Came a voice from the crowd. It was Klethi, even more intoxicated. "Off to sees the nobles? Well be sura stab one for me!" She said finishing off her pint. Roland then leaned over to Deshavi and said, "you are in charge of her tonight. Make sure she gets to bed without doing any harm to anyone." Deshavi weakly smiled and nodded then stood up to help her friend.

As Roland and the page then left the inn, they heard Klethi say, "Desshavavi! Where have ya been? Here take a pint!" Roland then looked at the page with an awkward smile as if to say, "She's special." And the page returned the smile, before leading Roland towards the castle for the feast.

When the pair of them reached the castle, Roland was allowed in without any hesitation. Walking towards the great hall, Roland could see several servants running back and forth between the hall and the kitchen, taking the empty trays of food back to the kitchen, and bringing out trays full of food into the great hall. As he passed the doorway to the kitchen he ran into a servant girl carrying a jug of wine in each of her hands. The two crashed and the girl spilled wine all over Roland surcoat. When the girl saw Roland, a look of fear then came over her face, "Milord! I am so sorry, I did not see you there!"

Roland then wiped the wine from his surcoat, but was not angry. "It's fine," he said trying to calm her down, "It's my fault," he said passing blame off the servant girl, "I didn't see you there. I ran into you." The girl the looked at Roland in the eyes to see he was sincere, she was small, with dark brown hair, with brown freckles peppering her face and bright grey eyes.

"Oi, Molly! Get that wine to the counts!" Came a voice from the kitchen. Out of the doorway, a sweaty ugly woman with dark brown decaying teeth came out of kitchen and looked at the two of them angrily. "What's this? I got a kitchen ta run 'ere! I don't needs ya chatting to some merc!" She then saw the wine on Roland's surcoat, and turned to the servant angrily, "You spilled wine on him? You good for nothing slut!"

The servant girl then lowered her head and looked like she was on the verge of tears, but Roland then stepped in, "It was my fault Madam, I ran into her and made her spill the wine on me. Do not blame her." The kitchen lady then looked at Roland and then back to the girl, sighing sharply she then dropped her anger. "Alright Molly, get that wine out to the counts, now!" The servant girl then took off with the two jugs of wine into the great hall. "Thank you for under standing," said Roland. The woman just scoffed and went back into the kitchen. When she disappeared, Roland then walked up the great hall, where the servant girl that he ran into came out again, holding two empty pitchers of wine. When she saw Roland she then stopped and said, "Thank you Milord. I would have been beaten if you hadn't said what you did." She then smiled, "I'm grateful Milord." Roland smiled back, "It was no problem." Then he added, "and please. I am not a Count, so don't call me "Milord". My name is Roland, Molly. So please call me that." The girl nodded, "Yes, Mil—" she caught the words in her mouth, "Roland." He nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, "You better get back before that hag decides to beat you." Molly nodded and ran into the kitchen. Roland then turned and rolled his shoulder and sighed, preparing himself for the challenge of the feast.

The feast was already underway by the time Roland entered into the main hall. The main course had been served and eaten, leaving the guests free to roam around the great hall and converse with each other. Roland then saw that their were more people here then he realized, then he noticed that a lot of the people here where rich merchants and their families here for the tournament As Roland passed the archway, a page who was standing on the side of the archway asked, "Your name sir?"

"It's Roland of the Wolves," he said gesturing at his surcoat as if it was obvious. The page then turned and cried, "Roland of the Wolves!" After the crier announced Roland's name the entire great hall froze and turned to see the newest guest to their feast. Roland then glared crossly at the page, leaned in and whispered, "You know with me wearing this surcoat it makes what you just did rather redundant, don't you think?" And with that Roland walked further into the hall, now the topic of all the whispers and quiet chat in the Roland. Seeing the king, surrounded by the dozens of ladies and lords, he decided he should greet the king right off of the bat and get that introduction out of the way.

Walking to the king, Harlaus smile, "Roland! I am glad you are here! I see you received my invitation!" Roland then gave the a small bow, (reasoning to be a little curious in order to avoid any more ridicule from any of the other counts), to the king and said, "Of course King Harlaus. It is hard to refuse the offer from the King himself." Roland grinned to himself while saying that. He had refused the king's offer on several occasions, he just said that in order to make the other counts believe that he came because of the king's invitation, rather then Henderson's letter.

"Well, help yourself to some of the remaining food," said the gesturing to the long table in the center of the great hall. Roland smiled, and took the king's advice. As he walked over to the table he saw a bunch of goblets of wine and walked over to help himself. As he pick one up, he heard a sharp, "Psst," from behind him. Turning around, he saw it was the servant girl Molly, motioning him to walk over to her. He then lean over and she whispered, "Don't drink the wine, Hadga the kitchen lady spits in it and on the food to spite the Counts." Roland then looked at the gobbet, and the liquid inside of it lost all of it's beauty thanks to imagining the ugly sweaty lady with the brown decaying teeth spitting into the wine, to Roland, slowly putting down the gobbet, he then turned to the girl and said, "Thanks for that, I owe you." The servant smiled, but then turned and went back to work.

Now that the entire feast's food selection was "contaminated" Roland decided to walk around the great hall. He kept a very sharp eye out for Henderson and or Elina, not wanting to accidentally head in the direction of them.

Roland then managed to find Count Delinard and join in on the conversation he was having with the Counts: Grainwad, Ryis and Regas, about the wars between the Sultanate and the Rhodoks, and the Khanate and Vaegirs. Count Regas started, "I still believe that the Veagirs cannot hold their own. Winning Sungetche Castle and holding Nelag Castle was a fluke, nothing more." Then Count Ryis countered, "according to my spies. The Veagirs army is far better equipped then the Khanate, would not surprise me if they take a city from the Khans." "Are these the same spies that told you that the Sultanate are winning the war with the Rhodoks?" Snorted Count Regas, "I'd have thrown their advice out by now! There is now way the Sultanate could hold off the Rhodoks for this long! The Sutlan's armies are tired and ill prepared!" Count Delinard then turn and smiled at Roland, "Well, Roland what do you think?"

Roland started surprised at the Count, expecting to listen and not be actually apart of the conversation. "Yes," exclaimed Count Regas, "What does the "legendary" mercenary captain think of this?" Roland sighed and begun slowly, "Well… I cannot say that I heard much or seen the war with my own two eyes with the Khanate and the Veagirs. But I have seen the Sultan and his army recently." The three counts, other then Count Delinard, looked at each other and laughed. "If you don't believe, just ask Henderson," smiled Roland quieting their laughter. Then Roland continued, "As I was saying, I have seen the Sultan's personal army. And I'm sorry to inform you Count Regas, but the Sultan's armies did not look like what you described them to be."

"And what would you know about an army? You've never been in a real battle before." Protested Count Ragas. "Enough to know whether an army is in good shape or not." Countered Roland, "Now I may not in your mind know what a true "battle" might be, but I know how to up keep an army. And I looked at the Sultan's men, they were well equipped, most of their armor was newer and their weapons also seemed to have been recently made. Hard to be "tried and ill prepared" if the army can afford weapons like that." The three counts looked at Roland and nodded, "So what do you think will happen?" Asked Delinard. Roland shook his head, "It is hard to say at his point, maybe they will reach a stalemate and just call the whole war off. The Sultanate certainly looked like their army could handle themselves in a battle." He then looked at the counts, "But as I am sure you all realize nothing is ever finalized in war." The counts nodded in agreement. In war anything was possible.

As he chatted with the four Counts, he saw Lady Sonadel in the corner of his eye. She seemed tied with a group of ladies that were chatting with each other. She had a bored and dreading look on her face, it looked at though she was taken prisoner again.

When her eyes met his, she gave a sight smile, and motioned him to meet her by one of the pillar benches. Roland then excused himself from the counts and went to sit by her. Sitting beside her, he then sigh, "I read your letter." "Did you?" She said still looking forwards, "Was it that made you come tonight?" "Who said I was not coming?" "Everyone," she said plainly, "They all thought if Henderson didn't ask you to come you wouldn't." She then frowned, "They call you his "dog"." "Really?" Asked Roland, pretending this was the first time he heard it, "Why would they call me that?" "Because they say he has you an a leash, like a tamed wolf." She then looked at him, and asked, "Does he?"

Roland laughed, "Ha, no. Not really. I mean I help him out a lot because he his one of the few nobles I really trust." He then smiled, "And who I am friends with." He then looked at her and explained his trust, "He helped me start the wolves over three years ago. He gave me training, money and equipment. And he never asked for anything back. So I owe him." He smiled, "But I guess now he owes me. Huh?"

"So you are loyal to him?" asked Sonadel not changing emotions. Roland shrugged, "It's rather hard to think of betraying a trust I had with him over three years. Sure I do a job for him every now and again, but he never forces me to accept a job I do not want to do. He respects by opinion, which is rare for any lord to do, don't you agree?" Lady Sonadel looked down to the ground, there was some odd about her tonight. The previous night before she had been radiant and fiery, but now she was dimmed. Then he remembered the letter, the reason why he came here, it was off as well.

"Are you ok?" Asked Roland, "you seem "off" to night?" Sonadel looked at Roland and snapped defensively, "What makes you say that?" Roland then counted the reasons on his hand, "well first off, you seem distracted right now. Second you wanted me to come tonight, or at least that is what the letter sounded like. Now here I am and you are distracted and distant for some reason." "That is hardly a reason to say I am acting strange," defended Sonadel. "And finally," said Roland driving it home, "you apologized to me in the letter. I may have only known you for a day, but in that sort span I never took you for someone who would apologize, unless you were forced to. Neither did my surgeon for that matter, and he has seen a lot of people in his days."

Lady Sonadel then stood up, and said in a firm voice, "You think you know me, Roland of the Wolves? You think you can place me in a category of other people in your mind, like I am predictable?" "I didn't mean it like that," said Roland in a calm voice, "I just mean I found it odd for you to do."

She turned her head away, and countered scornfully, "Well I can say that I mean this! I was wrong about you Roland! I thought you were different from the rest of these men! But I see you are just the same thug as every other mercenary in this land." "That's being a bit unfair," said Roland hurt. "I do not care. You think you are so great? What makes you think that? Placing first in four tournaments and second in another? That does not make you great, it makes you a thug with a sword. Nothing more. Not a man." Before she turned to leave she added, "I hope the fighter Xenria puts you back into your place." And with that she left the great hall and the feast.

Roland watcher her leave with a slight frown on his puzzled face. He had not expected this when he came here tonight. She was behaving stranger then Roland realized, but could not figure out why.

As Lady Sonadel stormed down the hallway to her room, she passed a dark corridor. "What did you find out?" Came a voice that made Lady Sonadel stop. She didn't need to look into the corridor to see who it was, she knew the voice. "If you want to try to convince Roland to help in your plot, it will be very difficult." "So he is "Henderson's Dog?"" Lady Sonadel shook her head, "No, he's Henderson's friend." She then added, "Making him far worse then a mere dog."

"I see, have you found anything else?" The lady shook her head. "No." "That is it?" "I did what you asked," she replied angrily. "It is not enough." "She then spun around and glared angrily at the man in the corridor. "Look, we had a agreement. I find out Roland's loyalty to Henderson and you keep quiet!" "The agreement has changed," said the voice menacingly. "Unless you would prefer to drop out of the tournament…" the man then said mockingly, "Xerina." She then turned her back to the man in the corridor, "No, I…" she closed her eyes in anger. And then opened them giving in. "What else do you need from me?"

"For now nothing. But I will let you know, and when I do. You better do it." "But what about my father, and the tournament?" "I will keep your involvement in the tournament secret, as long as you do what I say. Understand?"

"Yes," said Lady Sonadel reluctantly. "Good, now go back to you room, girl." She glanced angry at her blackmailer, she hated being told what to do. But she had to comply and slowly walked towards her room, leaving the man in the corridor to himself.

Roland was now becoming quickly bored, with no one to really talk to, he sat on the bench and begun to groom himself. As he sat there, he heard a voice, "This is the first time I have really talked to you, Roland of the Wolves." Roland looked up to see a middle-aged man, balding with dark black hair and a curly mustache holding a gobbet of wine. It was Count Montewar. "I was hoping to chat with you before the feast was over, and now I have my chance."

"Glad to see my presence is so desired." Said Roland jokingly.

The count then sat beside Roland and said, "I must admit, I enjoyed watching you in the tournament today. Now that was a round worth watching." Roland shrugged the complement, "To me it was just another round." The count smiled, "It was just another fight to you?" Roland gave a small nod, "Yes, I guess it was that." "Hmm, you are strange." Said the count. Roland didn't pay much attention to the count, he remember Montewar calling him a "whelp" but didn't care about it. The count then look a serious tone, "I was hoping I could speak to you about possible work I might have that might require you and your Wolves.

Roland slowly looked at the count, "What kind of work?" "Well work that would require you to technically work under me." "So I would be a mercenary troop that works directly under you, and only under you?" The count nodded, "But of course." Then he added, "Unless the rumors are true, and you really are Henderson's dog?" Roland was not surprised Montewar would say that to bait him to agree to his proposal. While most of the counts he knew were egotistical they were not stupid. They knew how to manipulate simple minded or easily angered people. Fortunately, Roland was neither.

Roland stood up and shook his head, "Sorry, Count Montewar, if I agreed to your terms I would become your dog. And the Wolves and I are nobody's "dog". We go and do what we please." The count sighed disappointed, "very well it is your choice." The Count then took a sip from his gobbet, which made Roland smile. "Is something amusing to you?" asked the count looking at Roland. Roland shook his head, "No, it's nothing."

Then one of the pages cried out, "My lords and ladies! I must inform you that it is time to say farewell to the ladies. Fore it is time for them to retire for the night." With that all of the ladies gave a small curtsy to whomever they were talking to and began to leave. As they walked by Roland some of the ladies, who Roland suspect were not being courted, blushed and averted their eyes from his gaze. While flattered, Roland shook the feeling away, he had never met any of them, and yet they were head over heals for him. It just went to show that they loved him for his reputation, and little else.

As the girls filed out leaving the men to occupy the great hall, Roland then turned to see if he could spot Henderson anywhere in the great hall. As he looked a young man caught sight of Roland walked over to him and said with a hint of anger, "Are you Roland? The captain of the Wolves?" The young man was well dressed, and had enough jewelry on his person to rival any noble's selection. He wasn't noble, but wanted to be. "I have a complaint against one of you," then he clenched his jaw, "Wolves." Roland raised and eyebrow, not exactly trusting his complaint. "Really? Pray tell, what did one of my Wolves do to possibly offend you?" Roland guessed it would not take much to offend him.

"The bitch pulled a knife on my and threatened my life! It was the woman with the scar across her right eye. The one called Haydee!" Roland shook his head, "She is not the kind of person to pull a knife on anyone," then he added, "Unless they asked for it." "Are you implying that I made her pull the knife on me?" Said the young man, insulted. "Do you know who I am?" "Actually, no I don't. You never told me your name." "It's Percian Bottlen, my father is Pestian Bottlen. Maybe you've heard of him? The richest spice merchant in Dhirim?" Roland shook his head. "Never heard of him. Or you for that matter."

"Well, then I must tell you, that my family has a strong influence in this city. And I can make your time here very difficult. That is if you do not listen to me." Roland then crossed his arms and asked "what do you want?" The young man smiled, "I want to punish her, for threatening me and making me lose face in the sight of all of the crowd." "And what would be her 'Punishment'?" The man smiled wickedly, "That is up to me," his smiled disappeared, "And if you refuse these demands, there will be consequences. For you, her and your troop."

Roland then narrowed his eyes, "Your pretty stupid, threatening a mercenary captain and his men." "Am I?" Laughed the young man, "My father can buy this city three times over! He can make anything I want happen!" Roland then approached Percian threateningly, "You know, it's rather sad, a grown man like yourself holding on to your father coin purse like it was a bottle of milk. I wonder what will happen when your father is gone and you are all alone? What will happen?"

"Enough!" Commanded Percian as if he had authority, "You have my demands, now do what I ask!" Roland then turned his back to the young man and said, "No." "What?" "You heard me, I will not give Haydee to you." "I gave you a command." "And I do not take commands." "You bring me that bitch, or I will see to it that you and your men suffer!" Roland then turn around and stared down the boy, "Threaten my men again or call Haydee a "bitch" again and you will be sorry."

"I say again, Roland of the Wolves. You bring me that bitch or I'll—" Roland's fist in Percian's jaw then prevent the rest of the statement from being said. When the boy recovered he then held is jaw in shock, and yelled, "He has assaulted me! Roland of the Wolves has assaulted me!"

"I didn't see anything." Said a voice from behind Percian. He turned it was Count Henderson. Percian then began to quiver with fear again, "Twice in one day, Percian. You are really starting to get on my nerves." "My lord!" Henderson then leaned in close and said with a harmful tone, "I do not give a damn who your father is, or what sort of power you have here, you threaten a friend of mine and his men. And that is not something I easily forgive." "But Count Henderson!" "I was tempted to speak with your father, about your conduct at the tournament earlier today, but decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. But now I just might decide to meet with him and discus your future." Henderson then smiled, "I have plenty of room in my dungeons for well groomed men like yourself."

Percian then lowered his head, and Henderson said, "Leave. And I mean Dhirim, until the tournament is done. A day before and I will see to it you are a guest in my dungeons." Percian nodded understanding and took off out of the great hall. Henderson then turned to Roland and shook his head. "Did you have to punch him?"

"He threatened my men, and called Haydee a bitch. I'm not going to let him insult my men without him seeing my men's reply to the insults." Henderson sighed. "Well at least you showed up," he said looking on the bright side. "I see you kept your end of the bargain," stated Roland. "Yes, it was a lot of work. But I managed to make sure that Lady Elina never knew you were here." Henderson then said as if in pain, "I had to have her tour the castle with me. It was not fun." "Don't expect that doing that makes us even. Remember that I did not have to come tonight." "Yeah," shrugged Henderson, "But you had to. Unless you preferred to be called my dog." Henderson then smiled, "Shame, it was kind of nice having a personal "dog" to do my bidding."

Roland then shot an angry look at Henderson, "Don't call me that." Henderson then raised his hands, "alright, alright. You're not my dog. And everyone here knows that now."

"Have you been able to touch up on those rumors of Francis?" Asked Roland changing topics. Henderson shook his head, "I haven't been to Suno yet, Roland. I came straight here with the king, and let my army to return home. I sent some information back to Nox to check into, but I doubt the army will make to Suno until tomorrow." "I see." "So nothing new."

"What about the letter I found with Lady Sonadel?" Henderson shook his head, "Who ever wrote it was very careful with it. There is hardly any sign to hint who wrote it. But the King now has seen and as promised me he will be careful with the hearing of rumors. So I guess I have a safety net of sort." He then looked at Roland, "but we know this. You were not supposed to find Lady Sonadel. The Lions were."

"What do you mean?" Henderson leaning in closer and his voice quieted. "Someone tipped off the Lions as to where Lady Sonadel was being held. He would have been the one to find her, that is… if you had not beat him to the location." "I beat him?" "By an hour. Hagen didn't receive the message that Lady Sonadel was found. So he came riding back to protest to the count that gave him the info." Roland then thought back to the afternoon, when Hagen called him out, "so that is why he was so upset today." The Roland realized, "Wait a Count gave him the lead?" "Yes," nodded Henderson, "But he wouldn't tell me who." "Couldn't you just force him to tell you?"

Henderson shook his head. "If I captured him, whoever did this will probably stop his plans knowing that we are after him." He then smiled, "Besides would you want to anger a big man like Hagen?" Roland nodded, "Touché. What do you plan to do?" "I plan to let the enemy make the next move, I now know it is a Swadian count thanks to Hagen. He would never work for anyone else below a count. It is "degrading" for him." "That helps?" Asked Roland. While it diminished the number of suspects, it still did not single out anyone. Henderson shrugged, "It's a start. I can name a few Counts that would love to see me go. And some who would sink this low to get rid of me."

"Do you need any help?" Offered Roland. Personally he wanted to solve this and get the one responsible for this. Henderson smiled, "This is my affair, my problem. Besides I owe you a lot as it is. I dare not ask for anymore more help or you might rob me dry." Roland smiled, "Hey, I got to be sure you are going to be around **to** pay me back. If whoever succeed in their plots, and they manage to get you in trouble I don't want to save you again. Especially if you are no longer a count."

Henderson nodded, "Fair enough. I'll keep you posted in what I know. For now, focus on the tournament. Get another "w" to you chart," smiled Henderson. "How many would that make if you win? Five?" "Six," corrected Roland. "I thought you knew my record better then me." But he couldn't blame Henderson too much, he himself forgot earlier when he was talking to Xerina. Roland then froze and realized something. He then swung his head out of the great hall. "What is it Roland?"

"Lady Sonadel, she…" he then realized what it meant. "Uh, she seemed odd tonight." Said Roland covering his realization. "What brought this on?" Roland shrugged, "I… just remembered I didn't talk to her about it." "About what?" "The letter she sent me, she apologized in it." Henderson grunted, "Huh, that is odd. If she wrote it in paper, I'd keep the letter. It's one of the few times I've heard her do that."

Roland nodded for no reason, but then looked out a small window and saw how dark the sky was. "It's late, I better get back and sleep for tomorrow." Henderson nodded, "Right," smiled Henderson. "I'll be watching, good luck tomorrow."

Roland smiled back, "Thanks. Well I will be off." "Oh," said Henderson remembering, "I'd talk to Haydee. She might have something to say to you." Roland didn't know what he meant by that, but shrugged it off as Henderson's own type of humor.

As he walked towards the exit, he saw the servant girl Molly scrubbing the floor with a brush. Roland then walked over to her, and said, "Thanks again, for the advice on the wine." She looked at him, and smiled, "It was a pleasure mil— Roland." She then looked bashful and asked, "You saved my skin, sir. I would…" there was a hint of nervousness in her voice, "I would like to repay you sir in whatever way that I could." Roland sighed, "No Molly, I do not need repayment. Warning me of the wine was enough." He then walked past her and said, "Take carry, Molly." The young girl looked down at the floor, but then worked up the nerve to call out after him, "Are you in a courtship with someone?" Roland stopped and looked at her. "No," he said in thought, "I'm not. But I'm in a place were it wouldn't make sense if I did." And with that he reached the door and walked out of the castle.

Outside Roland sighed, at the girl's question. It troubled him. But he had answered honestly. He didn't what a relationship, at least not yet. It was not because he didn't want one, but it was because he felt there would be little point. He was not from this world, and he was searching for a way back. If he did go back, what would happen to the relationship? Could he take her back with him? Or would he have to leave her here? It wouldn't be fair to the one he chose. And he didn't want to be in that situation. But then he was unsure if he wanted to go back as well. He liked it here, it was simpler here. He had grown used to it.

Then the thought came to him, "What if I could come and go whenever I pleased?" It would be the best of both worlds. He could go home and visit his family but then come here and lead the Wolves whenever he wished. But was it possible?

Roland sighed too many worries. It's better not to have a relationship then worry about it. That way he would not hurt any one.

Arriving at the inn, Roland then found that most of the Wolves were missing, the only two remained were Jeremus and Haydee. The two of them were playing a game of Vert. "Still awake?" Asked Roland closing the door behind him. Jeremus smiled, "I thought I'd stay up to ask how it went. Haydee was kind enough to keep me company, until you got back." "I see." "How was it, Roland?" Asked Haydee. "Enlightening to say the least," replied Roland.

"Well that is helpful." Replied Jeremus. Roland nodded, then he turned to Haydee and asked, "I understand that you have something to talk to me about?" Haydee gave Roland a confused look, "What, Roland?" "Henderson said you had something to tell me." Haydee's eyes widened when she realized what he meant. "Um, well…" she said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry Haydee," Roland yawned, "but can this wait? I just became really tired and I should head to bed soon." Haydee smiled grateful for the offer, "Of course. I can tell you about it later." Roland nodded, sleepily and walked towards the stairs. When he got to the foot of the stairs he then added, "By the way I punched that prick Percian for you Haydee. You should really tell me when some rich brat bothers you like that." He then slowly walked up the stairs and to his room.

When he was gone, Haydee let out a sigh of relief. She was put on the spot, and it was quiet frightening. Jeremus just looked at her confused, but decided not to pry. With that they two abandoned the game and went to bed, leaving the first floor of the inn empty and quiet.

-End Notes-

Not an Origin Chapter.

For those of you who caught on to my pattern a couple of chapters ago, you'll have noticed that I am not following it these past couple chapters. I have a reason for it. So don't panic everyone will have an origin story.

Cheers

Indogma


	22. The Tournament: Day Two

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Tournament: Day Two.

The second day of the tournament started uneventfully. Roland and Ymira both waited under the stands for the first tier of the tournament to finish. There were still two more rounds to fight, but neither of them had a fighter that caught Roland or Ymira's attention. So they waited below for the second tier to begin. In the stands Haydee decided to stick with the rest of the Wolves. She didn't trust Percian to keep his word in the slightest, and she doubted Henderson would show up, to enforce the young man's promise. At least being with the rest of the Wolves, she could be safe in numbers.

Within two hours, the final two rounds for the first tier were completed, and the second round was about to begin. Of the fighters only thirty remained, and Roland and Ymira were two of them. The caller then began to call fighters to their stations for the next round. It was to be all mounted combat, everyone was to have a horse, and there were to be three rounds with five fighters on two teams, but the same number of people would pass, six per round. When the fighters for the first round were called to their colors, Roland and Ymira were called on the same team. They looked at each and smiled. "Just like every other day, huh Captain?" Joked Ymira. And Roland smiled, "Rather unfair if you ask me."

As they walked over to the horses after getting their colors, Roland quickly snuck back to the weapons rack to take a one-handed sword and heater shield. He had been in enough Swadian tournaments to know a fact, in mounted combat rounds, they "preferred" if all of the fighters used a lance, which did not please Roland. He hated the lance, it was a powerful weapon, sure, but uncontrollable in an untrained hand like Roland's. He'd rather have control over power any day. As he mounted his assigned horse, a squire, assigned to work the tourney, brought him a lance and expected him to take it. Roland shook his head and showed the squire that he already had weapons. The squire was surprised before a disappointed look appeared on his face and walked away, to put the lance back.

The horn sounded and the riders then rode out into the field and took their positions. Roland sized up the opponents; none of them were of any real threat. Hagen, Ali and Xerina were not in this round, so the round was almost guaranteed to Roland and Ymira. As the two sides lined up to fight, Ymira rode to Roland's side. She had followed Roland's example and grabbed a weapon she was more comfortable with, a short sword and a shield. "Ready?" She asked. Roland nodded, and both of them turned to face their opponents. The horn blew and the round had begun.

Much like his previous strategy, Roland hung back behind most of his other members and let them charge head first into the oncoming horseman. Ymira followed her captain, and the two of them rode at half the speed of their teammates. The two teams met in the middle with a mighty clash. Two of the red team, (Roland and Ymira's team), managed to time their lances perfectly and hit two of the other teams front chargers, knocking them to the ground and instantly out cold. The third red however was a poor rider and terrible with a lance, which made his attempt to strike at a blue not even worthy to be called one. However the blue he targeted was more skilled than the red and was able to knock him off his horse easily. But the blue had assumed that the horse was going to stop after running the red to the ground, but it didn't; instead it continued to charge forward and not slow down. As it brushed passed the recently defeated red's horse, it made a straight line dash to the side of Roland's horse. Roland, who had seen a change, had already cocked his sword over his shoulder. Now the Blue was unbalanced from recently hitting a man with his lance and could not recover with his horse still moving. So he couldn't do anything to stop the incoming hit. Like swinging a bat, Roland then released the attack and hit the man square in the chest with the forte of his blade. The man then fell to the ground screaming in pain and quieted when he hit the dirt. He was finished for this round.

After dealing with the blue, Roland and Ymira joined the cluster of people in the middle of the field. While there were only two blues left, all four of the men in the cluster had lances, which were impossible to do damage with, when they had no momentum behind them. While they stood by each other, trying to poke their lances into each other, Ymira and Roland both singled out a different blue and together rode past them hitting them with their swords. Within less then a minute of the round starting, it was over with four of the red team still on their horses, and most of them with a knock out in the round.

With the round over, Roland, Ymira and the two remaining red team members rode back under the stands. After they dismounted, Roland and Ymira went to the balcony to watch the next couple of rounds. The next rounded included Hagen, Ali and Xerina on the same team. It was no surprise that they managed to destroy the other team with little difficulty.

After the second and third round, the third tier could begin. It would consist of the remaining 18 competitors fighting on foot in three teams of two for three rounds with only four spots for the forth tier. Now it was important to win more then ever. The crier called out the teams for the first round: "On the red team, Hagen of the Lions and Jers from Seren! On the blue team, Wercha from Amere and Karlt from Burglen! And wearing green, Roland of the Wolves and Xerina!"

Roland and Ymira exchanged glances, paired up with the fighter that up front challenged him, against probably the biggest threat in the tournament. "This should be interesting." Said Ymira. "You have no idea," sighed Roland. Heading back down to get his green surcoat, Xerina was there already in her surcoat and she had her helmet on and with her weapon ready. "About time," she said impatiently. "You better not let me down this round, Roland." Roland smiled but she could not see it though his and her own helmet, "The same to you "partner."" "Just for this round," she said walking towards the gate, "But don't think for a second we are friends. I intend to win, no matter what."

As she walked to the gate, Roland sighed. He could not figure her out, even with her identity revealed to him. He knew Xerina was a name that Lady Sonadel was using to compete in the tournament. But why? And why was she so intent to defeat Roland? He could not figure it out. Brushing the thoughts aside, he concluded they would have to wait for another time. He was going up against Hagen. He would need all of his concentration.

As he and Xerina walked out onto the arena, Roland looked though his helmet and looked at the Red team, he could see Hagen staring at the green team. Even through his helmet, Roland could sense it was a grim look. Roland bet he was going to target him throughout the round and that none of the other contestants mattered.

Roland then realized what he was getting into this round, and started to fell a little worried. "So what are you thinking?" Asked Roland, to Xerina trying to decide on a strategy. "I say we remain defensive." "What makes you think that I am going to work together with you?" Asked Xerina. Roland had her look at the red team and say, "Do you see that big guy? Do you honestly think you could take him on by yourself?" Xerina then looked at Hagen and said, "I take it you think defending would be wise?" "If we let them come to us, we can work around them and hopefully not get outflanked." Xerina sighed, it was not her style but she could see the logic behind it. "Alright," she said reluctantly. Then the starting horn blew and the round started.

As the round started, Hagen turned and began to charge towards the green and was followed by the other red. The Blue team like wise followed the reds, (neither of them wanted to take on Hagen just yet) and also charge towards the green team. Roland and Xerina on the other hand, slowly backed up and put their backs to the arena wall, they would play the defender.

As the two teams charged towards Roland and Xerina, they unwittingly came closer to each other. Then the two met just ten feet in front for the green team. Seeing a chance the blues took the offensive. They teamed up and were able to dispatch the first red easily. They turned to Hagen, and together swung at his back with their weapons. Hagan, who was too focused on Roland to pay attention to his teammate, felt two heavy blows on his back. Hagen took his eyes of Roland and slowly turned towards the two blues. Seeing that they tried to stab him in the back, he then flew into a blind rage shouting, "You're dead!" And began to attack the blue team.

While doing that, Hagen turned his back to Roland and Xerina. Roland then debated whether or not to leave his position and flank Hagen or stay here and be defensive. Roland then noticed how quickly Hagan was making short work of the blues. By the time Roland got there, Hagen would be finished with the blues and would be able to turn all of his attention back towards Roland. It was not worth it, Roland concluded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xerina sprint like mad to reach Hagen before he was finished; she had seen the chance as well. Roland sighed, he doubted if he could tell her to stop, that she would. He would let her make her own mistake, and try to take all of the glory.

Hagen swung his two handed sword and in one swoop he dispatch the two of them. Still in his rage, Hagen then began to turn around to continue his advance to Roland. Before he could completely turn he heard the yell of Xerina behind him, giving away her position to him. Seeing her out of the corner of his left eye, he swept his sword all the way around and hit her to her left. While she carried a tournament shield on her left side, the blow hit her shield and she stooped to in order to take the blow. However, the amount of force Hagen generated from that sweep was more then she expected, and the hit on her shield made her go flying to her right.

After falling to her side, she hit the ground hard. After a second or two of being dazed, she struggled to get up. But the very instant she moved her right leg a searing pain arose and engulfed the leg. She ground her teeth in pain and let out a pain grunt, but still tried to get up despite of the pain. Hagen decided to finish her. Walking over to her, he readied his long sword to thrust downward. Now in a point of his rage where all logic, (although he did not have much), failed him. Now he was in a battle, and Xerina was just another enemy. And he intended to kill her.

Still struggling, Xerina struggled to move her shield over her body, but Hagen kick it aside. Leaving her exposed to his attack. Now standing over her, Hagen raised his sword and prepared to force it down. Lady Sonadel shut her eyes shut and began to pray, that something would save her.

"HEY! UGLY!" Came a voice that captured both of their attention. They turned and saw Roland now standing away from the wall, sword readied and making "rude" gestures towards Hagen. "Why don't fight some one who can stand! Coward!"

In his rage, Hagen remembered Roland and forgot all about Xerina. He stepped over her and turned to fight Roland. Roland in turn readied his sword for the incoming attack. Unlike the others Roland now knew what Hagen could do in his anger, and it was clear that hitting him in the back or trying to hit him in the back was a very bad idea. This left Roland with one strategy: dodge and counter. Letting Hagen get the first swing, Roland noticed that his attacks were very slow, and very easy to dodge. Bending forward, Roland let the sword swing over his head, and countered with a blow to Hagen's knee. Seeming to do no damage, Roland stepped back, to dodge an incoming downward strike. Letting the wooden long sword pass within inches of his face, Roland countered with a hit to Hagen's elbow, which again seemed to do no damage. This patterned seemed to continue for another two minutes, with Roland dodging everyone of Hagen's attacks and countering with a hit to his joints. Then as Hagen started to tire, his joints began to burn with pain. Without any adrenalin to mask the pain, Hagen started to slow and become sloppy.

Finally Hagen let out one final cry of anger and swung his blade with all of his might at Roland. Now even slower, Roland dodged it and again countered to Hagen's knee. With too much pain in his knee, Hagen knelt on it, but kept the other foot still on the ground. Roland then moved in to finish him. Using the other knee as a launch pad, Roland leaped up into the air, and using all of the force he was coming downward with, struck Hagen in the shoulder. The blow caused Hagen to tilt back slowly, after screaming loudly in pain. Like a giant tree he fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.

The very second Hagen hit the ground the stands roared with cheers, pleased with the fight and cheering the fighter's name. "Roland! Roland!" After taking in a breath of relief, Roland noticed that his practice blade had cracked, and was worthless now. If the fight had continued, his weapon would have been useless, and Hagen would have had the upper hand. Roland smiled to himself, he was lucky Hagen went down.

Seeing Xerina struggle to get up, he then walk over to offer his hand to help her up. She saw it and pushed it way saying, "I don't need your help." The she tried again to stand, but a bolt of pain came through her leg and she fell to the ground again. Roland sighed, took her arm over his shoulder and lifted her up until she had both of her feet under her. When she was up, she then forcibly pushed him away. She grunted angrily and slowly limped away from the arena. Roland shook his head, not knowing what to do. He decided to leave her be and walked back to the gate as well.

After entering the area under the stands he was greet by Ymira, "Congrats, captain. You beat the hardest opponent yet!" "Thanks." Smiled Roland. "Are you up next?" Ymira nodded, "Yes sir. I'm on the blue team this round." Roland then nodded, "Good luck. Make us proud." She then smiled, "I will."

After the arena was cleared up, the next round was ready to begin. Roland went up to watch the match and cheer on Ymira. After the horn sounded, the round started like any other. As the three teams came together, fighting ensued and Ymira was in trouble. She had taken a long sword this round, she was at a disadvantage, while blocking an incoming attack form a red member, she exposed her side to a yellow, and the fighter hit her in the head. She went down, and was out. It took only a few minutes for the rest of the round to finish. A man from the yellow team, Vefra from Suno won the round. Roland then went down to the gate and waited to be allowed in to the arena to help Ymira get up.

As he walked out to her, he knelled beside Ymira and asked "Are you alright?" Recognizing his voice, she woke from her daze and answered in pain, "Yes, uh. It was a captain hit, lucky." Roland had to keep himself from laughing, and just sided, she was confused and disorientated. Slowly he pulled off her helmet and her long blonde hair flooded out of her helmet, but on her forehead was a gash about an inch long. It was not deep but clearly it put her in a funny state. Putting her arm over his shoulders he asked, "Can you walk?" She then looked at him and smiled, as if drunk, "Walk I can, yes." Roland sighed, still holding back laughter bit also relieved she was fine. As he walked her back, she said in a moment of clarity, "Next time, I'll do better." "I don't doubt that." Smiled Roland cheering her up, "You did pretty well this time, Ymira." She smiled, again, but now back in her daze, "You know, I'd have your babies…" Roland turned his head and focused on the gate ahead. She might as well have been drunk, and he knew she was in a strange state and liable to say anything. "I mean it," she continued, "Just say you want one, and we'll do it."

As they arrived at the gate, Roland took her to the entrance of the arena where several Wolves, including Alayen and Haydee were standing. Roland could also see Matheld in the very back. As soon as she caught sight of Ymira, a large grin appeared on the Nord's face. Alayen stepped forward concerned, "How is she, captain?" Ymira then looked up and him and said, "Hey, Alay-den, why don't you like me?" Then she lost all energy in her head and it dropped. Roland looked at Alayen, "She's a bit punch-drunk. A day's rest will help her." He looked around. "Were is Jeremus?" "Back at the Inn." Said Haydee, "He was one of the ones who lost in strays today."

Roland nodded, "Someone better take her to him to get the wound looked at." "I'll do it sir!" Offered Alayen. Roland shook his head, Ymira was in a state were she could say something damaging to the possible "relationship" that could blossom between the two of them. And Roland didn't that to happen. "Sorry Alayen I need you here." Lied Roland, "Besides, what will people think if you carried her back by yourself?" The noble caution that Alayen had then kicked in. "I'll do it," offered Haydee. "You sure?" Haydee nodded, "The tournament is almost over anyway." She shrugged, "I would not be missing much."

Roland nodded, "Alright." He then had her support Ymira. "Be careful. She is in a funny state, don't listen to her." Haydee smiled and nodded, "Got it. I'll be careful." And then the two of them slowly walked back to the inn.

Roland and the Wolves then returned back to the arena for the final round. Ali was in it and to Roland's prediction, she won. That meant: Roland, Ali and Verfa were set in the fourth tier. But the reason why Roland stayed at all came up: the nobles would name the fourth fighter in the next round. This was the final time the nobles could save a person, and allow them to pass into the next round.

Roland then looked up into the king's both and saw all of the nobles together talking amongst themselves. It seems like the answer was not obvious. Roland guessed that they were debating between whether to allow Hagen to advance or Xerina. In Roland's mind he would prefer if Xerina advanced. He did not want to fight Hagen again. But he doubted it. Hagen in the round had knocked out two men on his own and showed that he could beat Xerina easily. In terms of points Hagen should be the fourth to advance. But it was clear that there was some argument between the nobles. And the crowd stood quietly, waiting for the answer.

Meanwhile, Haydee was halfway back to the inn with Ymira, who was in her dazed state and saying nonsense from her mouth, "You see Haydee… It's simple, you take the sword hilt and then… you can sell spices…" "Oh I bet," said Haydee agreeing with her, not trying to disagree but just passing her comments off.

As they walked onward, a pair of men then stepped out of the alleyway and black their path back to the inn. Haydee did not notice them and Ymira was in no condition to be noticing anything. As they stepped in front of them, Haydee stopped and said politely, "Excuse me." But the men did not move. She then said it more forcefully, "I need to get by, could you please step out of the way." But the men did not move, instead the men smiled evilly. Haydee then felt threatened and did not like the situation. She was in no condition, with Ymira on her shoulder, to fight, and then there was the chance that Ymira could get hurt. And she could not help. Haydee was out numbered and out matched. She turned to go back the other way, only to a fist coming towards her at full force, and after the fight made contact, everything went black for Haydee.

After a half-hour of silence, it seemed like the nobles finally decided on a verdict. And the crier was given a scroll to read, which had the line up for the final three fights. "This is the two fights that will take place tomorrow. The first fight: Roland of the Wolves against Ali of the Roses!" A cheer came from the crowd, as if they knew the tension that existed between the two. Then the crowd quieted, and the crier continued, "And the second fight, will consist of: Verfa of Suno and," everyone in the crowd held their breath, "Xerina!" After a moment of confusion, the crowd then cheered anyway. But through the cheering crowd, Roland could hear and angry yell. He smiled to himself. He bet it was Hagen, upset that he didn't get in.

But then it brought a question to Roland, "Why did they pick Xerina?" Hagen was the clear victor and favorite of most of the nobles. Why overlook him for Xerina? Roland suspected something was being plotted. They wanted to have Xerina advance, and he could not shake a feeling that it had something to do with Henderson, and the plot to have him charged with treason. He'd have to talk with him later. Probably later tonight, Roland concluded. Hopefully he could solve that riddle. The tournament was now closed for the day, and the fans started filing out back to their lodgings for the night, and Roland followed suit. Not knowing that plots that soon would concern him.

-End Notes-

I'm Not Dead!

I just want you let you all know I have not died! It's finals for me right now I am I doing my best not to fail! So to all of you who are struggling with finals as well, "you can do it!" And for those of you who do not have finals, (because of some mediocre reason), you are terrible people…

Cheers!

Indogma


	23. Unmasking Xerina

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Unmasking Xerina.

* * *

Roland had a hard time getting back to the inn. By the time he had gotten out of the tournament armor, the streets were crammed with people. It was an effort just to move two feet ahead. It took Roland a good hour to reach the inn when it only would have taken five minutes. By the time he entered the inn, Roland was annoyed.

Upon entering he found that most of the Wolves, drinking and celebrating his advance into the final four. Like before they cheered together when they saw Roland enter the room. After the little welcoming cheer, Roland then found Jeremus and Alayen sitting together playing a game of Vert, with Firentis in the background watching the two of them. He pulled up a chair and watched. "Well Roland," smiled Jeremus, "I hear you gave Hagen a good beating." The surgeon was not at the tournament due to his bad luck with the straws and he was one of the ones casted to watch over the Wolves' rooms.

Roland shrugged, "He was a brawler, his attacks were slow and easy to dodge. But he could take hits, that is what made him difficult." "Glad to see you put him in his place." Smiled Jeremus.

Roland looked around, he did not see the two girls, Haydee and Ymira anywhere. He saw Klethi near the bar, and looked like her head was in a vice thanks to a massive hangover, and Deshavi nearby to keep her under control. Matheld, was with a couple of Nordic Wolves swapping legends and tales of the Nordic beginnings. Bunduk and Katrin were with Joan and Kent, teaching them about the world from experienced eyes. But no Haydee and Ymira. Maybe Jeremus had put them into his room after treating Ymira.

Roland the opened his mouth to ask, but was interrupted by a familiar voice behind him. "Roland of the Wolves," Roland then turned to see the page from yesterday standing behind him. He had a slight smile on his face, clearly no longer afraid to send messages to him. "Well you found me again," said Roland smiling. "Come to bring me another group of invitations to tonight's feast. The boy nodded, and pulled an equally tall stack of letters from before. Roland took them and shuffled through them one by one. The usual, all of the lords and ladies sent him an invite, apart from Henderson, which did not surprise Roland, and Lady Sonadel, which also didn't surprise him. But then he wondered out loud, "How is Lady Sonadel, as far as you know, page?"

Jeremus and Alayen exchanged glances behind Roland's back, wondering between each other why Roland all of a sudden asked about a certain lady. The page shrugged, "I only know that she as taken ill tonight, and cannot come to the tournament feast tonight, sir."

"No doubt that leg is tender," thought Roland. "I wonder if she will have a surgeon look at it…" Then a thought crossed Roland's mind and he looked at Jeremus and smiled, "Jeremus, would you like to go to a feast tonight?"

* * *

Roland and Jeremus were early enough to the feast that they were able to be placed on the table for the main feast. Everyone was surprised to see that Roland had come by again, and this time bringing a guest. Even Henderson was surprised. While they sat on the far end away from the king, the two did not mind, this way they could avoid most of the politics of the lords. And Jeremus was grinning beside himself, this was where all of the young daughters of the counts were placed. When the feast begun Roland and Jeremus took their seats across from each other, to their either side sat a eligible daughter or sister of the Counts. Throughout the feast, Jeremus then stole the spotlight away from Roland. He recited poetry, philosophy, and often threw in a dirty joke or two. Roland was happy that he could just eat the meal of fresh pheasant in peace. Half way through the meal, Roland received a nudge from the woman beside him. It was Lady Elys, sister to Count Montewar "I must congratulate you on your victory today. Hagen was a favorite to win amongst the nobles. And many lost money from that match."

Roland grinned, "I suspect several other lords made a fortune." "Only Count Delinard, fore he was the only one who bet on you, and apart from my brother, and Count Klagrus who both bet on Xerina" "Henderson didn't bet on me?" Asked Roland, sort of insulted. "He didn't make a bet that round," explained the lady. "Or any round this tournament. He said he had enough money problems without adding gambling to it. He implied that he owed you a big debt." Roland shrugged, but the Lady smiled. "It was an impressive feat what you did for Count Henderson, even my brother was impressed by it." She then boast for him, "You know that he respects you."

"Really?" Asked Roland. If the count did indeed have respect for Roland, he had an odd way of showing it. The Lady nodded, "While he finds you rather…"she struggled to find a nice word for it, "… unreasonable towards nobility, he as admitted that you are one of the few mercenaries he would trust with a task. Your reputation for results proves that. The reason for his rough manner might also be a bit jealously of you for your relationship with Lady Sonadel…" she said. Roland raised an eyebrow, "I was not aware of any sort of thing existed me and Lady Sonadel." "Well my brother believes there is. I'm afraid. My brother has been trying to court her for years, but she keeps refuting her advances. And in all of that time he has never received an invitation from her. But you did, merely after a day of knowing her." Roland nodded, understanding why the Count would be jealous."Might I be so bold as to ask, if there is any truth to that rumor?" Asked the lady.

Roland smiled, "I can assure you that there is no truth that I am courting the fine lady." "Ah. Good," smiled back the lady. Roland then realized he just made himself eligible to the lady. He had been duped.

As the meal carried on, Roland then had to excuse himself to the bathroom. As he walked out of the hall he ran into Molly again, just the person he wanted to see. "Molly," smiled Roland, "I have a favor to ask." She smiled back, eager to please him. He then pulled out a small letter that he had prepared before he arrived to the feast, "Could you give this to Lady Sonadel? I understand she is ill and this is a note of wishing her swift healing." The girl nodded and ran of into the direction of the ladies quarters.

After returning to the feast, Roland relieved Jeremus of the attention for a while. Lady Elina, who had somehow managed to wiggle her way into sitting next to him asked him to explain how he was able to save Henderson, and the rest of ladies wanted to hear it as well. Giving to in the majority, Roland then tried to tell the story as plainly and as simply as he could. He purposefully left out the bits of Haydee's conflict, (because they were not relevant); but it seemed that the story alone was enough to make the girls swoon. Fortunately, before he could finish, the servant girl Molly came in to interrupt the story. She handed Roland a piece of paper, and Roland opened it: _I wish to speak with you, come before the feast is over and everyone is preoccupied_.

Glad for the excuse, Roland had to cut short the story and excused himself and his surgeon, saying an old wound was acting up and Jeremus needed to treat it. Both Roland and Jeremus left the feast, and went out into the hallway, and soon disappeared into the ladies corridors.

* * *

Meanwhile, Alayen was in charge of the Wolves and trying to keep them under control. While he could lead men into battle, he lacked Roland's ability to sense trouble until it was too late. Now most of the men had a belly of ale in them, and were loud. Alayen then had to ask Deshavi to help control them, which her cunning plan involved placing Klethi in the middle of all of this noise, with her hangover. It was so bad that she began to grab her head in pain that all the noise cause her. And her plan worked, as the men yelled around her, the vice around her head tighten. Then it reached the breaking point. She stood up and with a face that would be best described as a demonic possession and yelled, "SHADUP BEFORE I SKIN YA ALL!"

And similar to how a conductor controls the volume of the orchestra, the entire company of Wolves grew quiet. Deshavi smiled to herself proudly while Alayen just stood there in awe. After her little episode she then slowly turned and walked towards the stairs declaring, "I am heading to bed, and nobody better wake me!" Warned Klethi, "I think I'll head to Jeremus's room. I know there is not anyone in there."

Alayen then raised an eyebrow, "I thought Haydee and Ymira were upstairs?"

Klethi shook her head. "Nope they never made it back to the inn," said Klethi without realizing what it meant. "Why did something happen?"

Alayen and Deshavi looked at each other. "Are you sure?" Asked Alayen.

Klethi nodded, "Aye, I was here all day in my room, and I did not hear any one come up until you guys came."

Alayen then had a worried look grow on his face. And Deshavi then summed up: "So they are missing…"

* * *

As Roland and Jeremus then came to the doorway of Lady Sonadel, they were greeted by a fairly old woman with her arms folded across her chest. As they came to the door the women then held out her hand to stop the two of them from coming closer. "Halt," she ordered. Roland and Jeremus stopped were they were. "Are you Roland of the Wolves?" Roland Jeremus exchanged a glance, then Roland stepped forward and said, "I'm Roland of the Wolves. And might I ask how you are?" "I am the nurse of Lady Sonadel." She then refolded her arms and said bluntly, "My lady was reluctant to accept your request. But she has, remember that." She then looked at Jeremus and said, "Your friend will have to wait outside. Lady Sonadel made it clear see wanted to see you. And **only** you. Understand?" Jeremus then turned to Roland asked, "I guess I am not needed here, huh?" Roland whispered to Jeremus, "Give me five minutes and we will see." Then the nurse escorted the young man into the keep, and the surgeon stood outside of the door.

The room was fairly big, it had a canopy bed in the center with an armoire opposite the bed now doubt filled with dresses for every occasion. Lady Sonadel was standing with her back to Roland and the Nurse looking out the window. "My Lady, the man you have asked to see has arrived." "Thank you, please leave us for a moment. We have something private to discuss." "But my lady…" said the nurse in protest. "You are excused!" Yelled the lady without turning around. The nurse then reluctantly walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

For an awkward moment, silence filled the room with neither the lady or Roland making a single sound. Then Lady Sonadel half turned and looked at Roland with angry eyes, "I do not enjoy being the subject of a joke, Roland of the Wolves." Roland flinched in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

Lady Sonadel the completely turned around and said, "Your letter." She then took his letter from her hand and read it out loud, "_Dear Xerina, I noticed that you were injured in you fight today and have brought along my surgeon to examine you leg. –Roland-"_ she then looked at Roland and asked: "is this funny to you?"

Roland shrugged, "What is it about the letter that offends you?" "Do not toy with me, Roland. I do not know why you would send me a letter addressed to "Xerina."" Then Roland understood why she was upset. She wanted to convince Roland that she was not Xerina.

"Then why are you offended?" Asked Roland. "If you were not Xerina, then why, pray tell, are you so emotional about it?"

"I am not." Retorted the Lady, but Roland shook his head, not being swayed. The lady then changed tactics, "If you are so convinced that I am this "Xerina" that I suppose you have some proof." Roland chuckled. He then looked at her posture, while she wore a dress that prevented him from making sure, but he could tell that she was having most of her weight on her left leg.

"I can tell that you have an injury on your right leg without even looking at it." Lady Sonadel then looked down at her leg and shifted her leg trying to regain her regular posture, causing her eyes to flash with pain. Roland then folded his arms and lightly smiled; content with her response.

She then looked at Roland and forced a smile back, not backing down, "Just because I have a sore leg does not make me a fighter. I could have tripped and fell, cause my leg to become injured."

Roland nodded, but had one more card to play. "True, but I did have another reason to suspect you. Do you remember my record for tourney wins?"

Lady Sonadel nodded, not suspecting the point he was making. "Yes," she replied, "You have won 4 tournaments and come second in one."

Roland smiled and countered immediately, "and there it is. You see you are misinformed." Lady Sonadel looked bewildered at Roland as he continued, "You see I actually have one five tournaments and came second in one. You are off by one." Lady Sonadel still had the look of confusion on her face, but Roland elaborated, "You see, for a short time I thought my record was four first places. But while I thought that, I only told one person that it was that many: Xerina." Lady Sonadel then made the connection. "And if I remember correctly, you quoted that record last night, the same day that I had told Xerina that."

Lady Sonadel, then avoided Roland's stare. For a moment she stared at the floor, not saying anything. Then she let a sigh out, it sounded relieving and forfeiting at the same time. "I guess the rumors of you being very intelligent are true," she said. She then looked at Roland now with angry filled eyes, "I suppose you have come here tonight to make your demands. What is it that you want? Have you come to blackmail money from me? Or is it about pleasure?"

Roland shook his head, "I did not come here to ask for anything Lady Sonadel. I came here to offer my aid." Roland then pointed to her leg, "You were injured today and I doubt that you were bold enough to bring your own surgeon, so I have brought my own to have a looked at here."

Lady Sonadel then looked at Roland again puzzled, "Why are you doing this?"

Roland shrugged, "I'm interested to see how you do though this tournament. I thought I would lend a helping hand." Roland then smiled, "that is if you want it." Lady Sonadel looked at Roland, then looked at her leg that was throbbing, and she sighed showing that she was giving in.

"May I show him in?" Asked Roland. She nodded again. Roland then walked to the door and let the red haired surgeon in. As he walked in, Roland smiled. "Told you," his smile seemed to say. The surgeon came in and smiled courteously, "Good evening, Lady Sonadel. I understand you are injured?"

She nodded and limped to a nearby chair beside her bed. Slowly sitting herself on the chair, the made then rushed in and began to voice her protest. "Mil'lady! Why have you given in to this ruffian!" "There is no need for the secrecy," explained Sonadel, "Roland was able to find out on his own."

The nurse the saw Jeremus lower on his knee and her Lady pull up her dress showing her bare less. "I hope you will be a gentlemen, sir." She said crossly at Jeremus folding her arms. The surgeon looked up to the nurse eyes and smiled mischievously, "Don't worry ma'am, I'll be gentle with her." The lady was not convinced. But Jeremus then returned to his work despite the nurse.

As she pulled up her dress to show her leg, Roland was able to sneak a look at her leg. It had a dark black and blue bruise on the inner part of her calf as big as Roland's hand. When Lady Sonadel saw that Roland was looking at her leg, she felt ashamed. Then their eyes met, and the lady swung her head away, blushing.

"It's a mere bruise, ma'am." Said Jeremus, giving his diagnose. "Fortunately no bones have been broken. It will heal fine on it own, but it hurt like hell for a while." "Can I fight?" Asked Lady Sonadel.

Jeremus smiled, "That depends on you, Lady Sonadel. If you can withstand a lot of pain then yes, fighting should be not trouble for you." He looked over his shoulder at Roland and then whispered to her, "But it will give your opponents a nice target for them to strike at, should you leave it open for attack."

"Do not worry, I can handle myself." Said the lady proudly. "I've been meaning to ask about that," said Roland. "It was clear in the tournament that you have had training, might I ask how you came about it?"

"Why would I reveal that to my potential opponent?" Countered Lady Sonadel.

Roland shrugged, "you seem to know alot about me. Plus I loaned my surgeon to look at your leg, I just thought you would be so kind as to return the favor."

Lady Sonadel then looked at him. He had a passive look on his face. As if he did not care whether or not he found out, it was more curiosity then anything else. Seeing no harm in telling him, she sighed, "I was trained by my former bodyguard, Paulo. He was a retired knight assigned to me to protect me five years ago. He wanted to pass down what he learned from his time as a knight to someone, and I was willing to learn. For five years he taught me in secret before dying a couple months ago." She then looked to the floor and sighed, "I decided to enter this tournament to see if I could put what he taught me to use." She then ginned slightly, "If I did well I would have quit my family and join a band of mercenaries." She then looked at Roland and said, "I considered the Wolves."

"From how you say that, it sounds as though you have given up on the idea." Said Jeremus. "Why? You are one of the top contenders."

The lady returned her gaze to the ground, "The… situation has changed."

"Changed?" Asked Roland. "In what way?" Lady Sonadel's face tensed. Clearly she was upset about it. Roland could not put his finger on it, but the face looked familiar. Then he remembered were he seen the look before, when she thought Roland was going to blackmail her. "Someone else knows your secret…" Roland then saw her mouth flinch, "I am right. Aren't I?"

The lady then returned her dress over her leg, "I believe you are done here." She then looked at Roland. "You have had your surgeon examine me, now would you please remove yourself from my room."

"Who is doing this? We can help you." Offered Roland.

"This is my problem, Roland of the Wolves. Not yours. I would appreciate if you leave my affairs to myself."

Roland and Jeremus looked at each other, it was clear she wanted to be left alone. Roland sighed, "Alright," sighed Roland. He then motioned Jeremus toward the door. As the two of them headed for the door, Roland stopped and looked at Lady Sonadel, "If you ever need us, send a runner. We would be more then happy to help you deal with your blackmailer."

"Thank you, but I am not the one to owe favors to rivals." She then looked at her leg, "And I already owe you."

Roland shrugged, "Alright suit yourself. And do not worry our lips are sealed, no one will know of your identity. Best of luck tomorrow." He added smiling, "I look forward to fighting you tomorrow. Be sure you make it to the final round. I will be waiting, Xerina."

"The same to you," said Lady Sonadel forcing a smile. Roland then turned and left Lady Sonadel and her nurse.

When the door closed, the Lady let out a sigh of frustration. Standing up off of the chair, she then limped to the window and stared out of it. The nurse then stepped forward, "Mil'lady, are you alright?" "No," Lady Sonadel admitted. "A tournament rival comes to offer his help, and I turn it away. I do not understand him… or my actions for that matter." "He is just as much involved as you are, why keep him in the dark?" "What could I do? One false word and my father finds out I am Xerina, then I am chained forever to the castle." She added spitefully, "like a caged bird, forced to sing a tune on command." "And what has he made you now?" Lady Sonadel then sighed, "A puppet to a certain Count. Forced to do his bidding. No better then a caged bird. The difference is a caged bird can choose what they sing, a puppet is forced to say what the puppeteer wants."

"Can you trust this "puppeteer"?" Asked the nurse, seeking her lady's opinion. Lady Sonadel shook her head, "I do not know. He had threatened to tell my father if I do not follow his demands." "But will he keep his word?" Lady Sonadel the turned her head and looked at her nurse, "One can hope, because that is all I can do now."

* * *

In the hallway outside, Jeremus and Roland were walking away from the door with a lot of thoughts in their minds. "It seems like there are many plots around this tournament," said Roland thinking out loud. "Sure does," agreed the surgeon. "Let us hope it does include us in any way." "One can hope, Jeremus," said Roland, chuckling lightly.

Jeremus smiled, and then asked, "What now sir? Head back to the feast?" "Nah," said Roland, "I've had enough of feasts for awhile." "I agree," smiled Jeremus. "Besides, I used all of my best jokes tonight, and I am out of material." Roland chuckled, "You seemed to be the center of attention to night. I quite like it. Remind me to bring you around every time I go to a feast." "I wouldn't do that, Roland. I may wind up taking all of the ladies from you." Both looked at each and laughed as they continued along the hallway towards the castle.

As they started to leave the castle, Roland stopped and looked back at the castle. "Are you alright sir?" Asked Jeremus. "I can't shake the feeling that there something more sinister going on here." Said Roland. Jeremus shrugged, "Maybe so sir, but there is no point in worrying about it. If it does include us we will soon be made aware of it." "Yeah I guess," said Roland.

As he was about to turn over to continue back to inn, both of them heard quick footsteps from behind them, followed by a shouting voice, "Roland! Jeremus!" Both turned and saw Alayen running towards the two of them. "Alayen?" Asked Roland surprised to see the young man running up to the castle. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a problem, Haydee and Ymira have not come back yet." "What?" Asked Roland, he then looked at Jeremus who shrugged, "I didn't see them either, I thought they were still in the city." Roland then remembered he never asked him if the two of them made it back.

"Are you sure?" Asked Roland.

Alayen nodded, "We searched the entire inn, they are nowhere," he then handed Roland a note that he had in his hand, "then someone dropped this off at the inn." Roland then took the note and unfolded it slowly, he only needed to read the first line to understand the note's message: _We have the blonde haired girl who was wounded in the tournament, and the raven-haired girl with the scar over her eye._

They were kidnapped.

* * *

Haydee awoke from the sound of dripping water ringing in her head. As she slowly open her eyes, she then felt a pulse of pain ring through her head, forcing her eyes shut again. She then built up her courage and opened her eyes through the pain. After blinking a few times, her eyes then adjusted to her dark surroundings. The one source of light that came from a torch on the other side of some iron bars, it's shadow leaned against the wall opposite Haydee.

She then saw to her left another figure; it was Ymira, leaning against the wall, still knocked out. There was a trail of dried blood from her wound that flowed all the way down her face.

Haydee breathed in and, using the wall as support, she slowly climbed her way to her feet; but the second she stood on her own two feet, she succumbed to a combination of the throbbing pain in her head and a lightheaded feeling, forcing her back against the wall. As she slid back against the wall, she slowly begun to lose her senses. Just before she hit the ground and her vision faded to black, she said quietly, "Is…this…a dungeon?" And then everything went dark.

* * *

-End Notes-

Delay Due to Detox

Due to the fact the I have been reunited with my xbox, I have been detoxing from school and writing, but I am slowly getting back into the swing of things.

The Chapter

This chapter was meant to go father then where it ended but I decided to halt it here to add dramatic affect, and to keep the chapter's name congruent with the contents of the chapter.

Another 100,000 words!

Warband of Wolves as now reached the 100,000 words mark Whoo-hooo! Party time... hahah. Thanks everyone!

Cheers

Indogma


	24. Swallowing Pride

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Swallowing Pride.

Roland's heart skipped a beat are rereading the first line of the note: _We have the blonde haired girl who was wounded in the tournament, and the raven haired girl with the scar over her eye._

Roland just stood there, not moving but staring at the piece of parchment. "What does it say?" Asked Jeremus. It helped break Roland's daze as he stared at the paper. He then looked at the surgeon and then turned his stare back to the paper and read it aloud for his sake.

"_We have the golden haired girl who was wounded in the tournament, and the raven haired girl with the scar over her eye. If you do not want them harmed you will do as we request. You are to win in the fourth tier tomorrow and then lose the tournament to the final fighter." _

"They are trying to rig the tournament!" Said Alayen bitterly.

"_If you fail in this, the women stay with us. We will contact you after the tournament."_

"Bastards," cursed Alayen under his breath.

Jeremus them took the note and reread it, he then looked at Roland and asked "What should we do?"

Roland forced a breath out, clearing his mind from the emotions that were churning in his gut: worry, fear and panic. They all seem to want to overtake him, but he knew that he needed to stay calm.

"You two go back to the inn, gather the Wolves and begin searching the city for them. They might still be in the city somewhere. We will use the inn as a gather point." Roland turned back to the castle and preceded to walk in, "I'll go talk to Henderson, and see if he cannot help." Alayen and Jeremus nodded and took off back towards the inn.

As Roland walked briskly through the castle corridors, he tried to recall which room was Henderson's. He planned to go there and wait for him, that way he would not make a scene at the feast. As he walked towards the door in Henderson's room, he heard the latch move slowly. Without thinking Roland then ducked into a dark hallway that branched off the corridor, but peaked out to see if it was Henderson.

Instead, it was Count Montewar, who took a quick glance around to see if anyone else was around. After confirming he was alone, he turned and started making his way back to the feast. As he walked past Roland, he seemed determined and hurried for some reason. Roland then watched him leave the corridor, and wondered why he was in Henderson's room.

After Count Montewar disappeared, down the corridor, Roland moved quickly into Henderson's room and closed the door. He quickly glanced around to see if anything was out of place. The Count seemed to have left in a hurry, and had a menacing behavior leaving Henderson's room. Making Roland concerned if he didn't do something in here.

As he scanned the room, he saw an open letter on the bed that seemed out of place with the others. He then walked over to it and picked it up and read the sender's name, "Roland of the Wolves."

Surprised to read is own name on a letter ne never sent, Roland opened the contents and began to read it:

_To My Lord Henderson— _

The title alone made the letter seem wrong. Roland never called anyone "my lord".

_I have received your orders and understand them. I am to win in the next round but in the final round lose to the final fighter. _

Roland growled to himself, was this apart of the plot of kidnapping Haydee and Ymira?

Roland would have continued reading, but the door opened behind him causing him to jump. Spinning around with his hand on his sword, he saw it was Molly with a worried look on her face.

"Mil'lord! Quickly follow me! Montewar and the king are on there way here!" "Why?" "Montewar has declared that Henderson is rigging the tournament! And claims the proof is in this room. He is bringing the king to show him the proof!" Roland looked down at the letter he held in his hand, this much have been it. Stuffing the letter in his surcoat and followed Molly out into the corridor down into a dark servants hallway, where they hid in darkness as two pairs of footsteps echoed down the main hallway.

As Molly and Roland hid, they could hear the two people conversing. "I am assuring you my King, I have found evidence that Henderson is rigging the tournaments for his financial gain!" Roland recognized the man's voice as Montewar's.

"Is better not be a waste of time, Monetwar. I have complete faith in Henderson and am very doubtful that is rumor is correct."

"I can assure you my king," said Montewar opening Henderson's camber door, "It is." And the two of them filed in the room. Roland let a sigh of relief, and smiled at Molly, "I owe you, again Molly." He then looked at her and whispered, "How did you know where to find me?"

"I followed you as you came in, it seemed like something had you worried. And when I saw Montewar come from Henderson's room, you go in there, and Montewar returning to the room I felt that I needed to warn you."

Roland let a small chuckle go and said, "Thanks for you help, Molly. I would have been in trouble if they had caught me."

Suddenly the door opened, and the two men filed out of the room. Roland and Molly then hugged the wall again to listen in: "I warned you not to waste my time, Count Montewar! And yet here you are, telling me about letters that do not exist!"

"I assure you my King it was right there a moment ago! Someone must have taken it!" "Who? Count Montewar? Count Henderson? He at the feast! I know he is in good shape, but I doubt he could run from here and back to beat us!" "It must have been one of the servants!" "Then prove it! I have had enough of this! Bring me some proof before you make such an accusation again! I am returning to the feast, I expect you will be returning shortly." And the king turned around and begun to walked back down the corridor to the feast.

Count Montewar let out a confused groan of anger, and then walked down the corridor, following his king. After the two of them left, Roland and Molly stepped out of the servant passage way and looked at the empty corridor. Roland shook his head, was Montewar the one behind this?

He looked at Molly and asked, "Do you know if anyone else then Montewar was in Henderson's room today?" Molly shrugged, "I don't but maybe one of the other servants did." "Could one of the servants really have seen someone enter the room unnoticed?" Molly smiled, "We are invisible to the nobles my lord, they could care less about us or what happens to us as long as they get there way." Then she lightly blushed, "unless we spill wine on one of them."

"Could you please go ask them? It really is important." Asked Roland. Molly nodded, "For you, it would be no trouble." As she took off, Roland called out to her, "Molly, let Count Henderson know that I wish to see him in his room." She gave a quick nod and was off. Roland then walked into Henderson's room, and waited on his bed.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, the door opened and Henderson walked into the room and smiled, "I half expected you to be back at an inn by know."

"Yeah, so did I… but this kept me up," he said handing Henderson the ransom letter. Henderson took it lightly and read it, his smile fading the farther along the letter he read. He looked and Roland and asked, "Are you sure this is not a hoax?"

Roland shook his head, "They have not been seen since the end of Ymira's round. They should have been back to the inn by know, but they are no where to be spotted." He then handed Henderson the fake letter from him, "and then there is this…" Henderson took the note, sat on his bed and read it slowly. He then looked at Roland who explained, "I found that opened on your bed, it seemed like Montewar read it." He then explained how Montewar brought the king to his room, and said he had evidence against him.

Henderson sighed, "so I guess you are now involved in this plot against me." "Very much involved." Added Roland.

Henderson looked at Roland and asked, "What do you plan to do?"

"Right now, I am planning to search every nook and cranny in the city until I find them." "And if you can't find them before the tournament?" Roland sighed, "I will lose… and hope they are good on their promise."

"Roland…" sighed Henderson.

"I can't take the chance that they will hurt them, Henderson!" Said Roland cutting Henderson short. "They are my men, I am responsible for them! And I have to ensure that they come out of this all right. I… care for them…" "What about the tournament? Do you care about winning?" Roland shook his head, "At what price? Ymira and Haydee? I'd rather lose a hundred tournament then lose one of them!"

Henderson looked at Roland. He then lightly smiled, "Alright." He said stand up off the bed, "Then let me help by leading the search for them. I assume you have started one."

"Yes, but I should lead my men in this search. I mean these are my people that have been taken."

Henderson shook his head, "yes but you also need to stay focused on the fight for tomorrow. According to the letter you need win one more round before you can lose. If you lose right of the bat, then there is no guarantee that you will see them again."

Roland looked and Henderson angrily, but then gave a sigh of defeat; he was right, he needed to win tomorrow. "Besides," added Henderson, "Wasn't Ali a Wolf at one point. Maybe she might be able to help."

Henderson suggested the idea without really considering what history Roland and Ali had between each other. Roland scoffed, "heh, like she would help me. You do realize that she and I did not exactly leave each other on friendly terms."

"But she liked Ymira and Haydee before she left, right?" Henderson looked into Roland's eyes, and said: "Now is not the time to yet your pride and former wounds hold back from asking for help! You need as much help as you can get." "She will say "no"." "And do you know that for a fact Roland? Or are you making yourself believe that?" He then walked past Roland to make his way to the door of his room, adding, "It will do no harm to ask her. Maybe she is in a forgiving mood."

"And what if she says "no"?" "Then you will have asked, and done all you could." He then stopped as he opened the door and stared at the young man. "Ask yourself this: Would Ymira and Haydee be comforted by the fact you did everything you could, or the fact that your pride forbade you from seeking help elsewhere…" He then paused to let his words sink into the man. He then said, "I will be at the inn helping your men search for them. Come see me when you have made up your mind." Henderson walked the door and left Roland alone to decide what he was going to do.

For a moment Roland stood there in his thoughts, contemplating on what to do next. He clenched his fist and let out an angry sigh, he hated to admit it but Henderson way right. He needed Ali's help. Even if every bit of his body hated the idea, but he hated the idea of losing two of his Wolves. No. Losing two of his friends…

He then stared at the door and forced himself to step forward and used the momentum to keep going forward. After moving through he door Roland then walked towards the exit, with not a single thought going thought his mind. He was in a daze, unaware and unconcerned of his surroundings.

Then there came a brisk, "Roland," from behind him. He turned to see Molly standing behind him, with and excited smile on her face. That look made Roland excited too. Maybe with her information, he did not have to see Ali for help. "Molly what have you found?" Asked Roland strongly.

"I asked all of the other servants and some say that they did see someone leave Henderson's room earlier today before you arrived." "Who?" "It was Lady Sonadal." Roland then grabbed her by the arms and asked, "Are you certain?" Molly nodded, " the servants knew it was her because she was limping after the tournament, and the lady leaving the room had a limp as well." Roland the looked down the corridor towards Henderson's door trying to recreate the image that the servant descried. She was the last person Roland would have suspected. Why would she do it?

He then made the connection: Whoever was blackmail her, was holding Ymira and Haydee hostage. That meant Lady Sonadel knew who was being this. If Roland could get her to talk to him, he might be able figure out who was behind this. He turned back to Molly and smiled, "Thank you, Molly." And he hugged her out of gratitude, but Molly did not know that. He then pulled way from her and headed back down the corridor towards Lady Sonadel's room.

After a brisk walk down the corridor to the Lady's room, Roland then knocked on the door after finding it locked. "Lady Sonadel," said Roland through the door, "I need to talk with you again." But there came no reply from the other side of the door, making Roland pound the door again. "I know you are in there!" He said louder.

He was right, Lady Sonadel was in her room sitting on her bed with her nursemaid. Not moving a muscle to the sounds of Roland's pounds on the door. Her nursemaid looked at her lady concerned, and almost pleading with Lady Sonadel to open the door. But the Lady held her head from, and did not budge. 'Dammit, open up! It is important!" He said giving the door another series of pounds. Then they slowed to a stop completely, making Lady Sonadel sigh with relief.

"I know what your blackmailer made you do, Xerina…" Said Roland though the door. Then the Lady swung her head at the door and stared through it to the man on the other side. "He had you put a letter in Count Henderson's room didn't he? Do you know what that letter contained? It was a letter framing Henderson for rigging this tournament! Saying that I was to lose in the final round of the tournament tomorrow." Then Roland's voice became worried, "And now I am being brought into this… two of my Wolves have been taken hostage. Whoever is behind this is forcing me to lose in the tournament to the final contender…"

Then he almost pleaded with her, "Please help me… who is behind this? You can trust me…" Lady Sonadel still remained motionless, and the room and outside corridor had a quiet silence. Then after five minutes, Roland sighed giving up. "Fine I will not bother you again."

But he added, "Answer me this, when this is over: what guarantee did he make that he will not tell your father? His word? And what makes you certain that he will keep it? You will be of no use to him and he will most likely tell your father anyway! And what could you say in your defense? The honorable man blackmailed the deceptive girl who disguised herself as a warrior to complete in the tournament against her father's wishes? Do you realize how stupid that sounds…" Then he said a word that made Lady Sonadel's gut wrench, "You're his puppet, and when he is done with you he will cast you aside. Remember that, the next time you do his dirty work."

Roland then turned from the door and began to walk away slowly, hoping that the door would open and she would reveal everything to him. Half of the things he said about the one behind this where merely guesses or assumption that he made. But he had hoped it might have scared her into helping him. But he forgot who he was dealing with, a woman like her did not scare easily.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Lady Sonadel gripped her dress over her legs tightly in her fists. She was wanted to stand up and open the door, to let Roland in but there was something holding her back, other then her injured leg, making her feel like a ton of bricks held her on her bed. Then Roland's footsteps began to fade away into the corridor, signaling she did not have long to take him on his pleading. Then soon the sounds of Roland's feet faded away to nothing and disappeared.

The nurse then let a sigh of relief pass her lips and smiled at her lady, glad that the scary man was gone. But Lady Sonadel (I really need to giver her a name already!) did not feel the same relief after Roland walked away.

She then muttered, "Dammit, he's right…"

"My lady?" Asked the nurse.

"Roland is right about him, I do not trust him after this tournament is over." "But he gave you his word!" "And who would believe me? Me, the one who lied to her father, to the king to everyone!" Then she looked at the door, where Roland once pounded on. "The one who refused to swallow her pride and help someone begging for my help at my door."

She then punched her bad leg hard, causing it to scream in pain up. She then clenched her teeth and muttered spitefully: "I am pathetic…"

"Pathetic," sighed Roland kicking himself, he should have tried harder. He should have kicked the door down and forced her to help him. But he didn't, and he knew he couldn't do that. But the idea that that tactic might have worked was enough to make him angry with himself.

He looked around and realized that he was now outside the castle and in the streets. He was in such a daze that he was not paying attention to his surroundings. As he continued a name of an inn popped into is mind, "Bee and Honeycomb." That was the name of the inn that he heard Ali was staying at. He then pictured the city of Dhirim's streets in his mind, and recalled were he was at in relation to it. He realized that the fork ahead of him, was a turning point to head towards the inn. Stopping at the middle of it, then looked down the directions he needed to go. To the left was his home inn, where the Wolves and Henderson no doubt were planning the next move to search for Haydee and Ymira. While the other lead to the Bee and Honeycomb, were Ali and her Roses were staying. For several moments Roland stood there, exchanging his glances between the two roads.

Then he remembered what Henderson said: "'Would Ymira and Haydee be comforted by the fact you did everything you could, or the fact that your pride forbade you from seeking help elsewhere…'" ringed in his mind. He then turned towards the other rode, forcing a breath from his mouth, and forced his feet towards Ali at her inn.

With every step he took, he could feel his body growing more and more numb to emotion. Maybe it was his body's way of coping with the swallowing of his pride, but at this point he did not care. He needed help, even if it was from his former enemy.

After what seemed like years walking along the street, Roland made it to the inn. Outside the inn, two women in armor under a red rose surcoat, acted like bouncers, asking whoever came into the in to the inn what their business was, and deciding whether or not to let them in.

As Roland walked up to the inn, the two women stepped forward. They were identical twins it seemed, no doubt Ali recruited from somewhere as one person. They saw Roland's Wolf emblem on his surcoat and knew they needed to be cautious with him. "Name your business here Wolf!"

"I need to speak with you leader, Ali, please." The two Roses exchanged glances at each other. "And who do we tell Ali wants to see her, Wolf." "Roland, tell her it is urgent."

Again the roses exchanged glances, "Oh really?" Asked one suspicious of Roland's intentions. "And why would you, the man who is to fight her tomorrow want to meet her the night before their big fight?" "I smell someone up to no good…" said the other one.

"Just tell her I **need** to see her, please. It is really important…" Said Roland impassive about their suspicions. The two sisters looked at each other. "Wait here," said the one to the left, while the one on the left walked into the inn. Roland folded his arms and waited. For a minute the sister did not return from the inn, and the other just stood there humming lightly. Then the other sister popped out of the inn, and smiled cheekily "Ali will see you but first you got to take off you sword."

Roland looked down to his blade. Normally he would have a problem with that request, but now he could not refuse the request. He untied his sword from his belt, and handed it to the Rose on the left. The girl that went into the inn, frowned surprised, "Huh, Ali said you would never give up your blade in a million years."

"I need to see her."

"Yes, yes, come." Motioned the Rose to have him follow with her hands, sick of hearing Roland's request. Roland and Rose walked into the inn, and he was motioned into a seat at an empty table in the center of the inn. As he took the chair motioned to him to sit in, he could feel the gaze and hostility of every other member of the inn. All of the Roses seemed to be on the bottom floor of the inn, drinking alcohol or relaxing, bit now all eyes shifted towards Roland, watching him to be sure he did not try something.

The there came the sound of someone walk down the steps of the inn, and all the eyes shifted to the figure coming down the stairs. Roland didn't even need to look to know it was Ali, he recognized the way she walked. As he came to the bottom of the steps, she then looked at Roland surprised, and said "My, my I did not expect you to agree to give up your sword. She then grasped the short sword on her belt and played with it saying: "Then it seems I have come over dressed."

There was a small chuckle from the Roses but Roland ignored it. With a big smile on her face, Ali then sat in the opposite chair then Roland did and asked, "So what brings you to enemy territory? Here to gloat or give me a brave face? Or are you here to surrender and let me win the tournament."

"I need your help," said Roland plainly. Ali looked surprised, by laughed it away, "Do you now? And pray tell, why would you want my help?"

Roland cut to the chase: "Haydee and Ymira have been kidnapped." Ali looked at Roland and grinned: she thought it was a joke at first. Then she saw the sincerity and worry behind Roland's impassive face, and knew he was not lying. She then lean over the table, "When?"

"It must have been before the feast started in the castle, and sometime after Ymira's round." Roland sighed, "They are demanding that I win against you tomorrow… and lose to whoever is in the final round…"

"Why not just take it as is and lose then?" Asked Ali assuming he would win tomorrow.

Roland shook his head, "You and I both know that even if I summit to their demands, there is no guarantee that they will fulfill their end of the bargain. Besides if you recall, they are good looking, and you know what happens to hostages like that…"

"Slavers…" replied Ali her tongue full of venom thanks to that word.

Roland nodded, "Yes, and I cannot take that chance that whoever took them will keep their word."

"Then what are you doing to find them?"

"We are working under the assumption that they are still in the city, I have sent my men to search it for anyplace they could be hidden in."

"Even if you had all of your men searching for them, you would not cover the city by morning." Said Ali bring Roland back to reality. "That is why I need your help. I need you to loan me your Roses to help me search."

Ali snorted at the idea, "And what good will that do? Even with my sisters helping you, it still is a far off chance we will find them." She then leaned back and added, "And why should I help you. If you recall we are not an friendly terms, and you still hate me."

"You left on bad terms with me, not with Haydee and Ymira… You would not be doing it only for my benefit, but Ymira's and Haydee's as well…" He then sighed, "I knew I would be a long shot to have you agree to help me, and it seems I was right." He then got off the chair and said, "But know this: their safety will come before yours tomorrow. I will do everything I can to win, even at the expense of you. So be ready, because I am no longer fighting for myself."

And with that, Roland turned to leave the inn. After two steps, Ali stood up and yelled angrily: "Roland, wait!"

"Mmmm…" groaned Haydee weakly slowly waking from her black out. Forcing her eyes open, she was greeted of the familiar sight of the cell that she had woken up to before.

After fully coming to, she looked around again. Ymira was still in her spot Haydee last saw her in. She then crawled over to her and shook her shoulder. "Ymira," she said weakly thanks to her dry mouth.

The blonde haired girl then moaned, waking up from her darkness as well. She then opened her eyes and scoped the room until she caught sight of Haydee. "Haydee?" She then grabbed her head in pain, and asked "Where-where are we?"

"I don't know… looks like a dungeon of some sort…" Said Haydee looking around. She then looked back at Ymira and asked: "how is you head?"

"Feels like a swarm of bees are in it…" said Ymira, "But I have my thoughts again, at least."

Haydee weakly smiled glad to be rid of the punch-drunk Ymira from before; she then turned to the door and said. "All I remember is being surrounded by men, and one of them must of punched me and brought us here." She then looked to the walls and said: "wherever this is."

Then from outside the bar door came the sound of footsteps growing louder. Haydee and Ymira turned towards the door and saw an armored man at the door, unlocking the door and opening it for another man behind him. Haydee stood up slowly and faced the young man who had just walked into the cell. She then clenched her fist and said, "You…"

The young man was Percian Bottlen, the merchant's son, donning a triumphant smile on his face. "Hello again, Haydee. Glad to see you are awake. It saves me the trouble of waking you."

"Are you the one behind this?" Asked Haydee.

Percian shrugged, "Not really, I am more or less new on this whole plot. The only thing that really made me come to join was the fact I would get to be able to see you again, Haydee." "Where are we?" "In an warehouse owned by my father. We had these cells installed to house slaves before we took them to sell." He said rubbing the walls of the cell. He then looked at the two of them and smiled, "And it seems they are still being used for that today."

Haydee and Ymira exchanged an uneasy look with each other. "What does he mean by that?" Thought Haydee.

"It is funny," chuckled Percian, "Your leader, Roland thinks he can save you by losing in the final round tomorrow. Shame, he doesn't realize that you two are already lost." Haydee then assumed what he was going to do to them.

Then Perican slowly walked towards Haydee, she began to walk backwards keeping her distance from him. But he just smiled, "Although, I could save you from that fate, if you would me my own personal slave… you'd be far better off then most of the others."

As Perican crossed in from of Ymira, the blonde haired girl used both of her feet to kick Percian's feet from under him causing him to fall in the cell floor.

Quickly getting back up, Perican then grabbed Ymira by her collar and pinned her to the wall, holding a knife he had on his belt to her throat. Haydee would have intervened by the guard, who stepped in, drew his sword and forced her back to the wall.

As Perican held Ymira up he said angrily, "You still have fight, eh? I'm gonna make sure you spend a hell of a lot of time in the labor camps once I sell you." He then looked at Haydee and said "And I will remind you who is on top of the world here. Men."

As he said that, to everyone else's surprise, Ymira started to laugh. Every looked at her confused. "Has she gone punch-drunk again?" Thought Haydee.

"What is so funny?" Asked Perican, getting even more upset.

Ymira just looked at him with her bright blue eyes and smiled, "Selling us into slavery is not a good idea. Do you know who we are?"

Percian scoffed, "Why should that matter?"

"Let me rephrase that: do you know who we are related to? I am Ymira Merconate, daughter of Weatherbee Merconate. Have you heard of him?" Perican then froze like he saw a ghost. "I guess you have, being a Bottlen after all." She then looked at Haydee and smiled, "And she is the niece of Sultan Hakim. She is Hayah Deema lost heir to the Sultanate." Slowly Percian looked at the two of them now, like they had the plague.

But then he regained his nerve and pushed Ymira further up the wall and said, "How do I know that you are not making it up?"

"Ask around," said Ymira, "I am sure someone will be able to verify that. Merchants have their sources. I know that can prove that within a day or two." She then grinned even wider, "That is if you do not want to prove it an send us off to slavery, then you will be sending two of the most powerful men's blood members into the slave field, and they will not look kindly on that."

Perican looked into Ymira's eyes, when he saw they were not bluffing he slowly lowered her down and withdrew from the cell, followed by the guard how them locked the door behind them.

When the sound of footsteps faded into silence Haydee sighed, "That was close."

Ymira smiled, "Yeah, I never thought I would have to name-drop my father like that to save my life." She then chuckled, "It is the first time I am actually glad to be his daughter."

"And I never thought I would use my uncle to help me." She laughed too, "Life is funny." Ymira nodded, and looked at the door.

"However, mentioning my father is not all good. If Perican contacts my father and lets me know I am here, I am sure he will not hesitate to send me back to the Kingdom of Rhodoks to marry that man again. That means we have to hurry and get out of here."

Haydee nodded back, "But how?"

Ymira walked over to the bar door and examined the lock. "I might be able to pick it." "You know how to do that?" Ymira smiled, "I picked the lock of my room the day that my father tried to wed me before. I am sure this will be no different. Besides, I have the same reason to want to get out of here."

Henderson leaned over a rolled out copy of the city of Dhirim in the inn were the Wolves were staying at. He bit is lip looking over the map, the city was quite spacious, even if this city was a medieval one. He had organized the Wolves into groups of three and sent them off in different directions of the city to look for any sign of a guarded place, that might a clue as to were the two of them where being held. If they were in the city.

Henderson knew it was a long shot to search in the city for them, but it seemed like Roland did not care about the odds. Henderson believed that Roland needed to do something for them, even if it was in vain. Looking up from the map, Henderson looked around at the Wolves that had stayed behind at the inn, with him. Jeremus stayed behind, as well as Katrin who was in the inn's kitchen making a light meal for whatever Wolves returned.

Then Henderson heard the door open in front of him, and he looked away from the map. It was Roland, he had returned, and Henderson could see a red haired girl behind him, which he assumed was Ali. Henderson smiled, "I see you took my advice."

Roland nodded and Ali stepped forward, "Hello Henderson, it's been awhile…"

"Yes it has," smiled Henderson, "But I wish it could have been on happy grounds." He straightened his back and asked, "are you here to help?"

Ali nodded, "I figured if Roland could swallow his pride and come to ask help fro me, I could do the same and give it. I mean I do like Haydee and Ymira still, even if they are Wolves."

"How noble of you." Said Henderson

"So how is the search?" Asked Roland. Henderson shook his head, "fruitless. To say the best of it. We have no idea were to search, so I have sent men all around the city in threes. I doubt we be able to cover the entire city with the people that we have. They are asking around to see if anyone say anything that might help us. Oh, and Klethi went off on her own." Roland grinned, "Leave her to it, if anyone can find them she can…"

Henderson turned to Ali and asked, "What have you brought to help?" "I asked my entire company to help with the search," said Ali. "Just tell them where you would like them to go." She then folded her arms and said, "You know, I am surprised you would be this involved Henderson. I mean would you send you men out to search as well?"

"Most of my men are back in Suno," explained Henderson. "And I am the reason why the two girls were kidnapped in the first place." Ali raised an eyebrow confused, and looked at Roland to explain.

"Someone is going through a lot of trouble to tarnish Henderson's name. First they tried to kidnap Lady Sonadel and blame it on him, but we showed up to stop that. And know we have this, Henderson has been the target of a plot to from him in rigging the tournament." Ali looked at the Count how gave a slow nod to confirm his story.

"And I fear they may succeed if something does not change…" he added.

Roland turned his head and asked confused "What do you mean?" "I mean, Roland that I have made a bet against you, a very large bet. That you would lose tomorrow in the final round." "Why…" Henderson dropped his head, "It was during the feast yesterday. Some of the lords were still teasing you about being my "dog"… that persuaded me that if I bet against you, I could prove them all wrong. I seemed to have dug my own grave with that one, haven't I?"

"But Lady Elys, said you did not make any bets." "It was after the women had left the feast that we made this bet. So of course she would not know." Explained Henderson. "That means Roland if you lose tomorrow, there might be a strong chance that however is behind this plot might succeed…"

"Not if we find Haydee and Ymira before then." Countered Roland.

"**If** we find them, Roland. Remember it is "If"." Henderson reminded Roland. He then turned to Ali and asked, "How may people do you have?" "63, sword sisters," she replied. "Good, have them get into three's, and I will see were we need to have them search." Ali nodded in agreement, and walked out of the inn.

When she closed the door behind her, Roland let out a loud frustrated groan, "Gahh, this damn plot is making my head hurt!"

"Mine too," Henderson replied coolly. "But even then this plan is… strange." "Strange?" "I mean it is poorly constructed and sloppy… I mean it seems as the plan was thrown together at the last minute." Then Henderson's face lit up, he had just had an epiphany. "Maybe it was…" "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it Roland, this plot had nothing to do with you until today. And what are they demanding you to do? Win the first match and lose the second. Wouldn't it be easier to have you lose the first round and not have to worry about you having to win it?" Roland shrugged, "I guess…" "Then why would that tell you to win the first round? It is because I bet you would lose in the final round!"

Roland then realized what Henderson was getting at: "They are trying to use your own bet against you." Henderson nodded, "So it seems. While clever it may be it also shows their desperation… it is a very risky plan. And one with a great chance of failing." "Then why are they controlling only my outcome?" "Because the more people they have to control the more they would have to cover up to prove that is was me, I guess. It is a large pain in the ass to cover one's tracts even in this day and age." Roland glanced at Henderson bewildered at the last statement. Henderson frowned, "yes Roland even I had to cover my own tracts once for twice. But that also mean that whoever is behind this must be using only you for their plans."

"It is not just me," admitted Roland. "Xerina is also being blackmailed my the same person." Henderson was lost, "And why would she be blackmailed into this?" "Because she is Lady Sonadel, and who ever is behind it knows she is Xerina."

Henderson then brought his hand to his mouth, "I see, that would be a useful amount of information to have against her. Her father is quite know for his temper. If he knew about that, I would not want to be Lady Sonadel when he found out."

"Yeah, and it seems like she is the other man's lackey. She was the one who planted the letter in your room." Henderson nodded.

"Well that helps narrow down who is behind this." "It does?" Henderson nodded, "yes we know it is a Count with a grudge against me." "We already knew that…" "Yes, but I forgot to tell you that only some of the Counts did not witness that bet or know of it till the feat later tonight. And the one behind this had to know about the by before the tournament today to be able to take Haydee and Ymira. So it narrows down the list." "But there still is a list."

Henderson nodded, "Yes and even if we do not find the one behind this… what can we do? He is a Count, he could avoid charges we brought on to him all day."

Roland scratched his head, he had not thought of that. "Is there anything we can do to be sure he gets punished?"

"Here it is a little harder to prove guilt, and the only real way to ensure that this Count will not retaliate in some way is to prove him guilty of treason, and have him banished from the Kingdom. But that is hard since we have to convince the King with facts. And while I admit Harlaus is not the bright King, he is stubborn. And will require a lot of proof to sway him. Of course it depends on the count behind this. If he well liked by the King… then we will have our work cut out for us. But if it is a Count that he is already angry against, like Count Klargus, it might not require much to convince him."

"So we might be out of luck even if we do get them back…" Sighed Roland.

Then the door opened and Ali said, "We're ready, Henderson."

After Henderson explained the areas and streets that were not presently being searched. After Ali knew where she needed to send her troops, she then assigned the areas that Henderson gave them.

When the other had their areas, and were off, Roland then walked towards the door to join the search. "Roland, wait." Roland stopped and looked at Henderson. "Go to bed." "What?" "I want you to get some rest for tomorrow… a lot depends on you, and whether or not you can win." He then looked at Ali and said, "No offence." Ali shook her head taking none.

"Henderson these are my Wolves that they have taken. I cannot stay here an do nothing." "But you cannot afford to risk your energy for tomorrow, either. Roland leave the search to me, I will do everything I can to find them." Roland then stared at Henderson blankly, after a movement of silence, he sighed "Fine. I will try to sleep." He then walked past Henderson, and both he and Ali watch as Roland slowly walked up the stairs.

When he was upstairs, Henderson then turned to Ali and said, "The same goes to you. We do not need you to win, but it would be best if you got some rest as well."

Ali looked at Henderson and folded her arms, he half expected her to fight off his offer. But to his surprise, she gave a slow nod and said, "Yeah, good idea. I will spread the word for my girls to follow your orders for the night, and then turn in as well, back at our inn" She started for the inn's door, and smiled "Good luck leading both the Wolves and the Roses, and good luck in the search." She then left Henderson with his map.

When she was gone, Henderson shook his head, "We will need more then luck to help us here. A miracle might even be too little…"

-End Notes-

Major Revisions

In the past month, I have read through the Warband of Wolves and revised it as best that I could.

My Mind has been Blown

In my states class, I learned something that reminded me of Mount and Blade. In it we learned of something called Spearman's Rho. Think about it, the Kingdom of **Rho**doks' best unit is a **spearman**. It is possible that one of translators thought of this and decided to base it in their translation of the game. Or it could be a coincidence, but I am not a big fan of them.

Picture of Haydee

While writing this chapter, I had the sudden urge to draw Haydee from it. I plan to post it soon on deviant Art, when I get a chance to scan it. It is not the greatest pic ever or even a good one in my opinion, (from 1 to 10 [10 being great] I'd rate it at a 3 to 4), but hey if you are interested in seeing it give it a peek.


	25. The Rose of Calradia

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

Recruitment Chapter/Origin Story

The Rose of Calradia.

Ali's Story Part 1.

* * *

The Wolves slowly trotted through the snowdrifts just south of the Branch River, the very river that runs through the Veagirs land. At the head of the troop Roland rode with a slight frown on his face. The snow was making the trek the Wolves were on a miserable one, slowing their pace to half of what Roland wanted it to be. He let out a quick sigh, and pulled a cheap woolen hat he had recently purchased down over his head, to warm up his ears.

This morning the troop had left the city of Curaw in high hopes of reaching the edge of the snow and making a good leap towards their next goal, Sargoth. They had just purchased a small quantity of iron from there and heard the Nords needed iron for an up coming tournament in Tihr. Ymira suggested that they make haste towards the Nords before the tournament, to haggle for the best price. Trusting her judgment, Roland turned the Wolves to the west, through a thick patch of freshly fallen snow.

From behind him, Roland heard the sounds of a horse speeding up to catch up with him. He glanced behind him, and saw it was Deshavi. When she had caught up to her captain she reported, "Roland, we better make camp soon, it will be night fall shortly, and it is not wise to ride outside in this snow." Then, as if on cue, a loud sneeze came from behind them, and both Roland and Deshavi turned in their saddles and looked for the culprit. Together they saw, Ymira rubbing her nose and sniffing. Roland grinned a little, she had been down with a cold since the troop had left Reyvadin a few days ago. It seems she did not get along with the cold that well. After all she was from the rocky humid part of Calradia, the Rhodock Highlands.

"I see your point, Deshavi." Said Roland. He then turned to look at her, "Any ideas?"

The archer nodded, "Yes sir, there is a castle up ahead. Ismirala Castle. It guards the village of Ismirala and the Ismirala bridge." "How original," thought Roland to himself. "We would camp there for the night."

"How would that be any better then just camping out and saving us a few denars?"

"They have an inn there, Roland. Since the bridge receives a lot of traffic from caravans heading west." "Are you sure?" "Positive," she nodded, "When I was with the bandits we had to stop there a few times to restock on supplies and eye up caravans heading through the area."

Roland nodded, "alright, lets head that way."

Making a small shift in the Wolves track to the north, Roland led the troop towards Ismirala castle. After about an hour of plowing though the snow, the troop then saw the outline of the castle and the village that shared the same name.

Thankfully, Deshavi had been right. The Wolves found the inn on the edge of the village, the closest building to the bridge. As Roland, Jeremus and a few other Wolves entered into the inn, they were surprised to see it almost empty. There was one patron of the inn other then the barkeep, and he was already passed out on one of the tables with a half drunk pint of ale in his hands.

Making his way to the barkeep, Roland could see a bit of excitement in his eyes. Clearly he was happy to see a group of mercenaries come through, and hopefully stay the night. Reaching the bar, Roland then smiled, "Normally I would ask you if you have any rooms vacant." He then turned to the lone patron in the room, "but from the way this room looks, I really do not need to ask, do I?"

The barkeeper nodded, "Aye, you'd be right. I'm plumb full of beds and no one to fill 'em." He then looked at Roland, "Maybe you can help me with 'at?" Roland smiled, and the two then begun to talk price. After five minutes of banter, the two sides agreed on a price, at Roland's disadvantage. He thought he had learned enough form Ymira, but it seemed that the innkeeper knew more then he did, and was able to out barter him.

As the Wolves begun to settle in to the inn, Roland sat at the one of the tables and began to pout from the price settled on. "Cheer up, Roland." Said Jeremus, trying to lighten the mood. "You can't haggle them all." But Roland just sunk lower in this chair, ignoring Jeremus. As he sat there at the table he just looked ahead at a game of Vert between Ymira and Haydee. As he watched the game play out in front of him, he noticed Haydee was a bit off. She had trouble placing her hand on the piece she wanted to move and had to put her hand carefully on the piece and slowly move the piece on the board where she wanted it.

Roland then leaned over to Jeremus and asked, "What is up with Haydee?" "It is her eye sir. She still has yet to adjust to it. It's bound to throw off her coordination for a little bit, until she gets used to it." "Will it ever heal?" Asked Roland. Jeremus shrugged, "it might it might not. From what I can tell the eye is fine it is just the eye lid refuses to open. I think it might have something to do with her mind." "You mean psychological?"

Jeremus tilted his had at Roland, "What does that mean?" "You know, your state of mind." "Can't say I've ever heard that word sir." Shrugged Jeremus. Roland realized the word had not been founded yet, and quickly recovered, "well it's a word that people from my homeland use a lot."

Jeremus then took advantage of Roland's statement and asked, "Tell me Roland, where is your home?" In truth, it had always bugged Jeremus that he knew so little of his captain. While a great man, Roland seemed distant about his past, and Jeremus wanted to know why.

Roland turned his head and looked at the surgeon, he had avoided discussing his "homeland situation" with anyone other then Henderson, Nox and Francis. The question had caught unprepared, and he was unsure how to answer the question safely. "I…" He started slowly.

Then there came a loud crash from behind Roland, cutting off his train of thought from Jeremus's question. Everyone at the table, including Roland, turned to see what it was.

On the floor was a small pile of broken clay cups no doubt filled with Ale and other drinks for the patrons. Overlooking the mess, was a young women with bright red hair, begging verbally assault by older woman behind her. "Look what you did you careless slut!" Shouted the older woman.

"What I did?" Shouted back the young girl. "You tripped me you old hag! This is your fault!" The older woman smacked the young girl with the back of her hand. "How dare you talk like that to you mother! If I knew any better I would cut out your tongue for saying that, Ali!" "Burn in hell, witch!" Retorted Ali, "you're my stepmother! My father only married you was to have someone to help him around the house!" The comment sparked another slap from the elder woman. "Because you were too focused on your "daydreams" to get any real work done!"

"That's enough," came the bartender's voice. Walking in the middle of them and pulling them apart he added, "Let us not make a scene!" He then quickly shuffled the two of them out of the inn, and out the back door.

As soon as the three of them were gone, Roland turned to the table and said, "Well, that was… distracting." Ymira and Haydee gave a quick nod in agreement, and returned to their game.

"A rose…" said Jeremus lightly. "Huh?" "She reminded of a rose," explained Jeremus. "She had bright red hair and was pretty like a rose, but when you reach her stem, she is covered in thorns. A rose."

Roland shook his head. "Where do you get this?" Jeremus shrugged, "From being an natural philosopher."

"Blast," cursed Haydee. Roland and Jeremus turned to the other side of the table and saw that Haydee had lost the game. Jeremus smiled, "I'm next," claiming his position in the next game. He turned to Roland and asked, "You wanted in?"

Roland shook his head, slowly getting up from his chair. "No thanks Jeremus, I have to check something anyway." Walking past the table he left the three to the Vert board and walked to the door of the inn.

Outside he noticed it was already night, and a light snow was falling on the ground. The inn had a small stable to the side of the inn, and Roland needed to look at the map to get an idea where they were. As he walked into the stables, he saw a figure moving in one of the stalls where one of his men had put their horses. Thinking it was one of his men, he passed it off as nothing and went to his horse and pulled out the map Henderson gave him. As he slowly opened the chart, he caught sight of the red-headed girl, Ali walking in front of the stable with one of his men's horses. Realizing what she was up to he quickly ran out of the stable and yelled, "Hey!"

The girl then froze in her tracts and stared at Roland. It revealed her face. It had been beaten and bruised. "What are you doing?" He asked her. She did not reply, but just stood there in the snow and stared at Roland. After a moment and no answer Roland asked again. "What are you doing?"

This time it seemed like the girl had recovered her anger and said, "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm stealing a horse! What? Never seen a girl steal something before!"

Roland just looked at her. "Why?" He asked. It was the only thing that came to his mind to say.

"Why?" Scoffed the girl. For a beat she just stared at Roland, before laughing sarcastically. "Why not? You saw what happen with that bitch! How she hit me and yelled at me! And what you saw, was not even bad as to how she can get! Sometimes she hits me so hard I blackout! Father does nothing to stop her," she exhaled angrily, "and always sides with her." She pulled up her dress a few inches and revealed bare feet under her dress, "That bitch even took my shoes and kicked me out into the night saying that I will get them back when: "I realize my place"!" She then dropped the reigns of the horse and extended her arms, "Well I do now, it is not here! I'm running away!"

"With one of my men's horses…" Stared Roland.

She then looked away from Roland's stare. "Yes so it seems…" She then turned to Roland, "what are you going to do?"

Roland put his hand on his sword, "Well I am not letting you have the horse, it is one of my men's and an expensive beast to replace." He then looked at her, and noticed she was trembling, but her face was hard as stone. It was as if she was not aware of the cold, or trying to not to show her fear. Roland assumed it was both. Folding his arms he sighed, he knew if he tattled on her, she would only wind up in worst shape then she was now. "But I will be happy to exchange it with a pair of cheap fur boots."

"What?" Asked Ali, unsure if she had heard him right.

Roland nodded, "the horse and my silence of this whole ordeal for a pair of fur boots. Sound fair?" And Roland then added comically, "and please don't try to haggle me… I already failed at that once today."

"Why…" she asked bewildered, "why are you doing this?"

"You seem to have enough people against you. I just thought I would do something for you." He then extended his hand to shake, "do we have a deal?"

Ali looked at his hand and then back to Roland, slowly she reached out her hand until she snapped his hand and said, "deal."

Roland nodded, "Good, put the horse back and I will get the boots." "How do I know you are going to keep your word?" "For the same reason I expect you to keep yours," he replied.

After putting the horse back, she then walked over to the stall Roland was at, and saw him holding a pair of boots in his hand. Walking over to a footstool for the riders to help them get on their steeds, Roland handed her the boots and she put them on. After they we on, she could feel the warmth and feeling slowly returning to her toes and feet.

Roland smiled, "Feel better. This why you won't get frost bite." He then saw drops of water from around her eyes, and realized she was on the verge of tears. He then crouched to her level on the stool and said, "You don't have to keep the tough act around me. I won't say a word if cry here, I'll blame the snow."

She looked at Roland crossly at the proposal. But the tears grew larger and soon they began to flow down her pale cheeks. "I hate it here!" She said through her tears. "My father does nothing for me and my mother— my step-mother— does nothing to try and make my life miserable! She only wants to get rid of me as soon as she can! All because of what I want to be!"

"What do you want to be?" Asked Roland.

Ali sniffed, "I want to be a hero. A female fighter like the ancient queens!" She turned her head towards the inn, "but every time I say it… she says it is a mere fantasy! I want to prove her wrong… but… it seems the more and more I struggle the more she beats me…" Ali clenched her fist and hit her leg. "That bitch always wins in the end. I feel like I am losing my faith."

Roland stood up, looked at the inn too and said, "She only wins if you give up." Ali looked at Roland. "I can't say if your wish will ever come true Ali. But you have to keep at it." He then looked at her and smiled, "Don't give up, you have a fire inside of you that many people only wish they could have. If you give up, who is going to prove your stepmother wrong?"

He then yawned and said, "Well it is getting late and I plan to have my troop leave early in the morning to get to Sargoth by tomorrow." He then walked out of the stall saying, "Good night."

"Aren't you worried I might steal one of your horses?" Asked Ali. Roland chuckled, "No, I trust you. Besides, I doubt you know how to ride a horse." He turned and asked "Am I right?"

He had hit the nail on the head, and it made Ali smiled, "Go to hell, you bastard."

Roland chuckled, "I might be in it now," he said referring to being stuck here in Calradia, "But I am doing my best to make the most of it." And with that, he went back to the inn and straight to bed.

The next morning, Roland awoke before the sun was up. After getting dressed he opened the door, only to find the red haired girl, Ali standing outside of his room with a small satchel of cloths over her shoulder. Before Roland could say anything, Ali spoke: "I decided if I am going to be a hero like the ancient queens, I need to get out of this hellhole. So I am going with you."

Roland looked at her, she seemed determined, beyond determined. He sighed, "I doubt if saying 'no,' it would make much of a difference?" Ali shook her head, "Not a chance." After rubbing his head he sighed, "Alright, Ali we are leaving soon. Just as soon as I can rouse up the rest of the men." "Got it, uh… what is your name?"

"It's Roland." "Roland," she said, and nodded, "I won't forget it!" "I hope not," teased Roland.

* * *

Roland sat up in his bed, unable to sleep with all the event going on around him. But it was mostly the worry about Ymira's and Haydee's fate that kept him up.

Then at the front of the room, Roland heard the door creak open and saw a small light shining through it. Quickly Roland sat up in the bed and turned to see who it was. He was half surprised to see Ali their with a candle in her hand.

"Any news?" He asked. She shook her head. "No, not so much as a trace of them."

Roland sighed, "I see…"

"I was on my way to bed for the night, and just wanted to see how you were doing."

"How I am doing?" Snorted Roland, "Two of my people are being held ransom and I am here trying to sleep. I feel, useless."

"Maybe tonight." Replied Ali. "But tomorrow you will be able to do more then any of use could do." She then smiled, "That is if you beat me."

"I was not going to ask you to throw the fight Ali. I will fight you, and beat you even at your best." Said Roland.

"Not if you don't get some sleep first. Get to bed, Roland." And she turned to leave the room.

"Ali," called Roland after her. Ali stopped at looked over her shoulder, "I want you to know… I understand why you did what you did over a year ago. I'm still upset… but I can understand why you did that."

Ali half grinned, "Well that is a start. Goodnight Roland." She then walked out of the room and left Roland to his bed. When she was gone, Roland sank back into the bed and tried to get comfortable, but his mind was still racing with thoughts. He had just said something he never thought he would say to Ali in a million years. But today was a day full of unexpected events, so it seemed to go along with the idea.

Outside the door, Ali looked back to it and lightly whispered, "And I can understand why you might hate me for what I did… captain…" She then laughed softy and walked down to an open room where some of the Wolves that were out searching gave her for the night.

The morning was coming; there was no stopping it. And when it came no one knew what it would bring.

* * *

-End Notes-

Happy Valentines Day and Single's Awareness Day! (A bit late but oh well!)

First I want to wish all of the single men, women, boys and girls who are not in a relationship, like me!, a happy Feb. 13 or Singles Awareness day (often out shown by the following day). And for all of those readers who do have a beau, have a wonderful Valentines day! I was laughing to myself when I was writing this chapter about Ali and the "Rose" correlation, and it being so close to Valentines day. I just thought it was fitting!

Finally got it up!  
For those who went to devantArt to look up the picture of Haydee and were disappointed, I apologize. But now you can go and see it now since i just posted it! (It took awhile to find a scanner). It's not my best work, but it's there for those who care it see it!

Cheers!

Indogma.


	26. Wolf-vs-Rose

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Wolf vs the Rose

* * *

"How is it coming?" asked Haydee, watching the blonde haired Ymira poking into the lock with an old nail they had discovered in their cell. For the rest of the night, Ymira had been trying to use the nail to open the lock. But it was not easy, Ymira could not see what she was doing, the cell door keyhole only was on the outside of the cell. Plus the lock was different from the one she had unlocked before, adding to the difficulty the lock presented.

"I have no idea," Ymira whispered back, "I got lucky the first time… I was hoping that would happen here…" *_click*,_ suddenly came from the lock. She then turned her head and looked at Haydee with a smiled, "Got it."

Haydee smiled back, her luck was convenient. Slowly the two Wolves, pushed the door open slowly, trying not to make the door hinges scream their escape. When they were outside, they saw several other cell doors along a long hallway lit ominously by torches. Haydee and Ymira exchanged glances, after a quick nod from both of them, they slowly began to walk down the corridor. As they walked by every cell door, they noticed that they were empty.

When could see the end of the hall, they heard a group of voices, causing them to slow their pace. As they came out of the corridor they entered into a large room with a high ceiling, the duo ducked behind a large wine barrel, propped up on it's side. From there they peeked over the side of the barrel to see a group of heavyset men surrounding a table with food on it. On the end of the table that they could see their captor, Perican, seated on one end of the table. He appeared to be focused on a person on the other side of the table. "Why didn't you tell me I was having my men kidnap the daughter of the most powerful merchant in the Rhodoks, and the niece to the Sultan!"

"Surely you do not believe that I knew about that and did not tell you?" Came a calm, but angry voice back at him.

Perican grumbled, "I just might, this whole plan is for you to get back at Henderson! You brought me in the plan with the promise at getting back at him, Roland and that bitch all at once!"

"And we will," replied the voice, "by the end of the day you will have your payback, and those three will not bother you anymore!"

"But what of that girl's ties to the Sultan?"

"From what I have heard, she has relinquished her claim to the throne of the Sultanate, thus she has no ties to royalty now whatsoever."

"And what of the merchant's daughter?"

"I heard, that Messer Merconate has offered a reward for the return of her daughter, this could be your way to enter into the merchant business with an exchange of his daughter, and fall under his good graces. It might be just the thing to have your father pass on the business to you and the start off your career as a successful merchant."

Haydee looked over to Ymira, who had seemed to lock her eyes on Perican angrily. The idea of being force back to her father made her blood boil, but the additional fact that someone else would be profiting form it made her all the more angry.

"Perhaps," said Perican liking the offer the voice suggested. But then the nervousness returned to his voice: "But what about Roland? His Wolves seem to be combing the streets looking for any sign of their missing Wolves in the city."

"As long as they stay in their cell, then you have nothing to worry about… besides, I have an idea how I can deal with Roland…" And with that, the sound of a chair scooting back, like the man was standing up to leave. "And make sure he never bothers you again."

Ymira and Haydee glanced at each other; they did not like the implication that the voice made about Roland. It was a very clear threat. As they heard the other man, no doubt the brains of the kidnapping, walk away and leave the building. Perican then addressed his men. "Listen, make sure what those two women do not escape. If they cause you trouble, tie them up and gag them, but I want them unharmed! Understand you simpletons?" All of the men gave a small nod.

Realizing the longer they waited around not moving, the better chance they have of being found, Haydee and Ymira walked slowly behind the large wine barrels even further into a dark niche of the warehouse. They needed to be cautious about not revealing their presence to the workmen of the warehouse.

* * *

Ali gave a large yawn as she stood under one of the gates under the tournament arena. She did not rest easy the previous night with her mind too focused on the recent events that happened the night before. She shook her head to sake the sleep from her eyes. Soon the fight between her and Roland would begin, and she needed to be aware. Or did she?

Ali felt torn within herself deciding what she could do. She loved the fact that she had the opportunity to beat her hold captain and trainer, a chance to beat one of the best in her mind. But on the other hand, Roland was being forced to fight her for the safety of two of his own people, two people she got to know quite will while in the Wolves, the merchant girl Ymira, and the raven hair girl Haydee. When she left, she left on good terms with those two, and hated the fact that she was in the way of their safety. But this was a rare chance to fight Roland and defeat him, a once in a lifetime chance. She did not know what to do.

From behind her, the sound of footsteps came from her, and she turned to see who it was. It was Roland, with his tourney gear on and his helmet off, with two dark bags under his eyes. It seems he got less sleep then Ali did.

"You look like hell," Ali said in her usual manner.

Roland tried to grin and think of a snarky comeback, but the lack of sleep made that impossible, "Thanks," he said half-heartedly, "I feel worse."

Ali sighed. A full night of searching and the two companies did not even find a clue of where the two of them had disappeared too. It did not look good for the two Wolves.

Ali looked out into the arena; it was empty apart from the sand that filled the area and some occasional pockets of grass that were still covered in the morning dew. She shook her head still debating what to do now. After swallowing hard, Ali struggled saying, "Roland… look. if you what me to… throw the match—"

"Ali," interrupted Roland, "You and I both know if you throw this match you will never be able to get over it. Besides if I cannot even beat you… how can I say I am a reliable captain?" He then shook his head, "No Ali, I have to beat you."

For a second Ali, didn't know what to say to that, she was certain Roland would agree to it, to ensure the safety of his two Wolves. She then grew angry at Roland. "Why the hell not? I'm offering you a win at the cost a chance to turn down the one chance I might get to beat you! And you just say "no"?"

"I don't want your charity, Ali," said Roland crossed. "I will give it my all, and I expect the same from you."

Ali scoffed, "You're unbelievable…" and she turned to storm away. Roland watched her walk away, and shook his head. He had turned down the only guarantee he had to win this fight. He immediately regretted turning down the offer. He was unsure why he did that, maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the pressure of finding Ymira and Haydee.

As he looked into the arena to get a feel of the fight soon to come, he could feel his conscious fading and his head falling to his side. Before his thoughts completely went dark, Roland snapped out of it and shook his head until he was as awake as he could be. He then sighed concerned, if he could not even stay awake now, he was in trouble for the fight.

"Roland…" came a voice from behind him, he turned and saw it was Lady Sonadel with the equipment on as well as her helmet.

"Xerina," Roland said surprised.

"Any word on your missing Wolves?" She asked.

"So you were there last night," said Roland.

"Please…" she asked, trying to prevent Roland from going into it.

Roland looked at her and sighed, he had already snapped at Ali this morning, he felt like he didn't need to do it again. "No word, at all…" He sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Just then the horns for the participants blew, and the first round was about to begin. "It looks like it is about to start," she said, "For your friend's sakes, I hope you win, and they are alright." She turned and added a "good luck" before leaving Roland to his fight.

Roland looked at her as she left, another chance to end it, and he missed it. He cursed in his mind, and shook another rush of exhaustion from his mind. As his vision returned, he looked up to the gate that was now ascending slowly and loudly. It was already half way up before Roland realized it. He knew then, he needed every bit of luck that he could gather.

As he walked out on the arena he could feel the sand warming up the soles of his boots, with a few grains sneaking through a hole or crevasse in the boot and stick to his skin. The grains that managed to squeeze in between his foot and his boot made walking uncomfortable, but Roland didn't care. He had other things on his mind.

As he made it out of the gate, the crowds in their stands began to cheer, final excited to see that the final day of the fights were starting. Across from Roland, he saw another figure come through the gate and walk out to meet him halfway. It was Ali, with her helmet on, and her hand on her practice sword.

Roland walked to his spot in the middle of the field, about ten feet away from being in the exact middle, and Ali walked out until a similar point on her side of the field. The two fighters faced each, and stared through their helmets at each other.

"People of Swadia!" Came a loud shout from the crier, "Today is the third and final day of this tournament!" There then came a loud "booing" from the audience. They wanted more. The crier let the masses yell for a minute before continuing, "Today there will be three fights! First we have the fight between Roland of the Wolves, and Ali of the Roses!" There came a loud cheer from the fans. "After that fight, then we have Xerina and Verfa of Suno!" Another cheer from the crowds, "The winners of these fights will progress into the final round of this tournament, and will fight for the title of champion!" The crier then looked up to the noble's booths, and waited for the signal to begin the fight.

King Harlaus nodded, and the crier shouted, "Let the tournament begin!"

Roland was slow in readying his blade compared to Ali, who had snapped her one handed sword ready like it was a toy. He frowned within his helmet. He was not ready for this. Taking a big breath in, Roland then focused his attention on Ali, and let a loud war cry sound from his mouth as he rushed toward Ali, determined to get the first blow.

Above the arena, Henderson stood in the nobility box, watching the fight. He frowned in surprise with Roland's fighting style. Unlike the rest of the fights Henderson had seen him in, Roland seemed to be a different person. Roland's style of fighting was defensive and reactive; usually he would let his opponent make the first move, block it, and counter their move with one more powerful once they were off balance. But today, he was aggressive and attacking wherever he could see. Clearly the lack of sleep and the lives of Haydee and Ymira hanging over his head affected him.

Henderson shook his head, he had been up the whole night and had nothing to show for it, he would still be at the inn leading the search if the King did not require his presence in the booth. So he put Alayen in charge and came to the tournament. As the fight started he voiced a large yawn. Every count in the box looked at Henderson rudely. As he realized he was the center of attention in the box, he had a embarrassed smiled, "Sorry."

"Well, Henderson. You seem tired, have trouble resting last night?" Said a noble in a tone that masked animosity, walking to his side and standing at his shoulder, it was Count Klargus the count of Yaragar.

"Grumpy Karl," Henderson called him, mainly because the Count always seemed to be angry around Henderson. And he knew why, Henderson had taken his once beloved city of Suno for his own fief, leaving the once proud Count with nothing more than a single village. Henderson could understand why. Henderson shook his head lightly and forced a smile, "Yes Count Klargus. I had trouble sleeping."

"Perhaps it is the burdens of being one of the Kings finest vassals, am I not right?"

"Yes," said Henderson, not really caring what Klargus was saying. He never listened to him. And the lack of sleep from the previous night made him in a more of a dazed state, making him care even less about what the count had to say. Henderson just turned his gaze back down to the fight between Roland and Ali.

Roland's change in strategy had thrown Ali off. She was unaccustomed to fighting him with his aggressive style, and was on the defensive. Most of his attacks were wild but powerful nonetheless. They had no pattern and seemed to be only gaining in strength. If Ali wanted to win this fight, she would have her work cut out for her.

Roland on the other hand was fighting off the exhaustion of lack of sleep with his attacks, every attack he gave a loud war cry to keep himself awake. It was working, to a point. While he was full awake for now, his fighting style was becoming less condensed and sloppier. He was swinging his sword at full speed all the time, and seemed to not care about if he hit her or not. Henderson could tell the thought that screamed in Roland's mind, 'I have to win!' Henderson sighed; Roland was trying too hard…

As Ali dodged an incoming attack, she noticed that Roland was leaving himself wide open for an attack on his right arm. She ignored it being reminded what was at stake in this fight. But as the fight continued, Ali became more and more enraged with Roland. He was continually leaving that spot wide open for her. Finally she had enough, she blocked Roland's blade with hers and stepped to the side. Before Roland could react, Ali pulled her blade away and swung it hard on the very top of Roland's arm.

After the blade hit the arm, Roland let a loud cry of pain leave his lips, he felt the joint pop out of the socket, making him drop his blade to the ground. Ali had dislocated his arm. But as he screamed, he took his free hand and punched Ali in the helmet with it. Another flow of pain came from his left hand for punching an iron helmet, but the new distraction of pain seemed to help relieve the pain from his arm.

The punch surprised Ali and she stumbled backwards with her mind in a mess. Roland then took the chance, grabbing his blade from the ground with his left hand, Roland charged towards Ali with all of the energy he had left, and knocked her in the helm again. This time the wooded blade did more then his punch, and she fell to the ground, in another confused state.

As soon as she hit the ground, Roland stood over her with his blade pointing down to her head. "It's over Ali," he panted.

Ali just looked through her slits in her helmet and sighed angrily, "You bastard…" Taking her sword in her hand, she threw it away, giving the crowd the sign that she was surrendering.

Immediately the crowd cheered wildly, happy with the fight and to see one victorious. Henderson gave a brief sigh, "He won, thank god."

Ali just stared at Roland through her helmet, and Roland held his position. For a second neither one said anything. They didn't need to, Roland knew Ali was furious with him, and wanted to hurt him because of the fight. The punch was a low grade attack, especially for Roland. But Ali also understood why Roland did it, he needed to win. It still didn't stop her from being angry with him.

Roland pulled the blade away from her head, dropped the blade, and extended his hand towards her to help her up. His hand hung there for a second before Ali batted it away and got up on her own.

When she got up, she looked at Roland again. "Go lose your damn tournament…" With that, she began to limp away slowly.

Roland watched the Rose walk away from the arena and towards one of the gates. After a moment, Roland then moved ahead behind her to follow her out of the arena. As he walked, he right armed swayed a little, causing a stream of pain for Roland. He then grabbed his arm with is left and hand held it in place. The pressure from his hand also cause pain but compared to the pain of it loosely flopping around it was endurable.

As Roland entered into the area under the stands, he saw Jeremus there waiting for him. It made Roland's heart skip a beat, "Jeremus! Any word?"

The surgeon looked at Roland and shook his head, "Sorry, Roland. No sign of them."

"Dammit," sighed Roland continuing to walk past him. But Jeremus stepped in front of him and said. "Let me fix your arm."

"I'm—" a sharp sting of pain arose from his arm and cut of his words before he could finish with, "Fine."

Jeremus sighed, "You have to fight next Roland."

"And lose. I don't need an arm for that."

"No but the longer you wait the more likely it will hurt more during your fight, and to fix later. I suggest we fix it now."

Roland stopped in his track and thought hard about it, then he reluctantly sighed, "Make it quick, please." Jeremus nodded, and went to work. Roland let the surgeon have full control of the damaged arm. With a quick grab of the arm, Jeremus pushed the arm up at the shoulder, and have the joint a hard push into the shoulder socket. With the loud *pop* of the arm returning to its natural place, a more powerful form of pain took of his body, and Roland screamed as if he was tortured. After the yell, Roland began to lose color in his cheeks, and panted heavily.

Jeremus had to guide him to the wall, and help his captain slide down it to ensure that Roland did not pass out. When Roland sat on the ground, Jeremus grabbed a wineskin from his bag and handed it to Roland. "Drink this, you will feel better."

Roland nodded and took a sig from the skin, it was sour wine, but after the fight, any liquid tasted good. As he drank the wine, he saw Ali to the side of them. Looking down at Roland. "Ali," said Roland taking his lips off the wine.

"I heard you scream and thought I had better come check it out… " she said plainly.

'I didn't know you cared…' Roland would have said that if he was not in pain and worried. Instead he looked at her softly and asked a question that threw both Jeremus and Ali for a loop, "Ali… tell me… did you lose on purpose? Or were you fighting at your best?"

Ali looked at him surprised, turning her face she looked away for a minute, "Roland… I…" Then she turned back angrily at Roland. "You know what? No. You don't deserve to know." She then turned as she said back, "Don't get killed, you bastard." It was her own way of wishing him good luck.

"I think I just ruined the one chance I might have had for us to bury our hate…" observed Roland.

Jeremus shook his head, "Really? I don't think so. Before she was sarcastic with you, now she is just angry at you." He smiled, "There might be hope for you two to work it out in the end after all."

Roland chuckled, "Maybe… Jeremus…"

"Yes?"

"Go check Ali, make sure she is fine… Treat her like a Wolf… I for damn sure owe her that much…"

"Alright," smiled Jeremus. "I'll look after her. You just stay here and rest before or final fight. The all you have to do is fight and lose, shouldn't be too difficult." The last line made Roland smile. Seeing his words strike home, Jeremus then left Roland leaning against the wall to take care of his former mercenary troop member, Ali.

Roland was now alone, against the wall, exhausted but now wide-awake. If the fight didn't do anything, his relocation of his arm filled his body with adrenaline, making him wide away and ready.

Turning his head Roland then looked out into the arena and saw that it was empty still. The remaining fight before the final had yet to be called to begin.

"Roland of the Wolves," came a voice from the other side of the gate. Roland turned to see it was a dark haired man with a bright green surcoat on, with several men He felt he had seen him before, but could not pick out his name.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Asked Roland.

"Count Klargus," he smiled, "I'm sure you have heard of me." Roland did recall his name being said a few times. "I am here to congratulate you on your victory."

"Uh, thanks…" said Roland unsure of the Count's kindness.

The count smiled, he recognized that smile, it was very similar to the one wore by Emir Dhashwal when he talked with Haydee. It was a different person this time, but Roland could feel its aura: malevolent.

"I expect you intend to win the tournament?"

"No," replied Roland flatly.

"No? Why is that?"

"It's… personal."

"Hmm, I thought it was because of your two missing Wolves."

Roland turned and stared at Count Klargus with a twist in his gut, he hated where this was going. "You," said Roland realizing what the Count was implying.

"Yes," admitted the count, "I took your Wolves, the ones called Haydee and Ymira."

Roland then slow began to stand, using the wall as a support. "I suppose this is a way of getting back at Henderson?"

"Yes, at first. But then you had to find Lady Sonadel before Hagen could, and ruin my plans." He then breath sharply, "So I had to make sure you would not get in the way again." He then shrugged, "That's why I needed to be sure I could have you do what I wanted."

"I am prepared to lose to get them back!" Said Roland.

"I know you are. But that is not what I want any more…"

"What? So you want me to win?"

"Close, I want you to win and kill Xerina in the final round."

Roland then stepped forward threateningly, "What?!"

"I have instructed her to do the same thing to you. She will have to kill you in the final round in order to keep her identity a secret. So in the end you will have to kill the other to get what you want."

"And if I refuse?" Asked Roland taking another step towards the Count.

Klargus smiled, and pushed his elbow into Roland's shoulder, causing a storm of pain that blinded Roland of his senses. When he came to, he was pinned against the wall by one of Count Klargus's men, with the man's hand pushing in on Roland's shoulder. Roland grunted in pain as the man put pressure in his sore shoulder.

"You are in no position to be refusing. You are injured and you have no weapon. I will make sure one way or another that this plan is going to work! I have risked and invested too much to have this plan fail now! And you and Henderson are not going to stop me now. Understand?"

"Painfully…" grunted Roland.

The man then released him from the wall. "Keep him here." Klargus ordered his men. Then he looked at Roland, "I have placed what few men I have around the entrances and blocked off this wing from any visitors if you thought you could warn Henderson," said the Count killing any hope of Roland getting help.

The count then looked at Roland one more time, "So Roland. I say, farewell, for now. Or maybe forever. And remember what happens to your Wolves, is entirely up to you." The Count then walked causally away, and was soon return to the noble's booth.

Roland then looked at the two armed guards keeping him trapped in the little gate hallway. They wore chainmail and had swords on their belts. Roland knew he could not do anything. He had to do what Count Klargus wanted. He turned and leaned on the gate watched the arena for the next fight. Maybe Xerina would lose, but what that would mean for him he had no idea. He shook his head and sighed, regretting ever signing up for this tournament. He was now starting to feel like a prisoner within the tournament.

* * *

Meanwhile, Haydee and Ymria were slowly sneaking around the warehouse looking for an exit. Ever since the voice had left, the stocky men had all gone to separate parts of the warehouse. Some were playing dice or Vert to waste the time, others took to drink from the wine barrels that the girls hid behind when they first got out. Perican had also left, but this time for home to rest, leaving a half-drunk foreman in charge. But the young merchant had every confidence in the world that Haydee and Ymira could not escape from the cell. So he had little worry that the men could keep an eye on them.

For the past hour, the two girls duck and sprinted from cover to cover, staying out of the sight of the men. The two found a pair of straw brooms lying around. Seeing no other type of weapon the two then were armed with a short polearm of sorts. While neither were very good with a polearm, it was better than nothing. Finally the two arrived at a small locked door. Fortunately, Ymira's skill had the nail, and began to work at the lock while Haydee stood watch with her broom ready.

After a long five minutes, the lock *clicked* and the door opened. "Let's go!" Whispered Ymira loudly. Haydee nodded, but before she could take even one step forward, she felt a hand come down on her shoulder. She quickly turned her head, and her eyes met those of one of the men guarding the warehouse. "Where do ya think ya're goin'?" He asked.

Without even thinking Haydee reacted. She hit the tip of the broom on the man's big toe, causing him to scream in pain, but more importantly release his grip off of Haydee's shoulder. Then she pulled the broom off of his foot and forced the bristles up into the man's face poking his eye and eventually the other end of the broom hit the man square in the jaw. Finally, Haydee took a step back and pulled the broom over the top of her head and swung it down on the man's head so hard, it caused the broom stick to break in half with a loud *crack*. The man's eyes then rolled back and he fell to the ground like a ton of bricks.

Now Haydee and Ymira had awoken the rest of the men, thanks to the man's yell and the breaking broomstick. Not wanting to waste a moment, Ymira shouted, "Run!" Haydee dropped the broken broomstick and rushed out the door with her partner in crime.

As they left they could hear a man yelling: "Hey, those wenches have gotten out!" The yell only made the two of them run faster away from the warehouse. But as to where, they had no idea. They were lost in the city.

* * *

-End Notes-

Sorry for the delay, I have been on honeymoon with Fire Emblem: Awakening, and am drunk with love for it! But now it is over and classes and fanfics await me… hopefully.

Also I want to remind everyone that my contest (sort of) is still going on! I need as much as you guys can give. Anything will do! Seriously… don't make me beg, (or am I already at that point), as far as the surprise itself, I am about half way done with it! This means I really need your guys' help to finish this! Please PM me if you have a phrase I can use.

Cheers

Indogma!


	27. The Final Round

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The Final Round.

"Hurry!" Shouted Ymira while running down the street, she glanced back at the crowd of men chasing after them. Haydee did not need to look back for extra encouragement, she could hear the heavy footsteps of the men behind them giving chase, the prospect of returning to the cell and possibility of facing Percian again made her run all the more faster.

As they rounded a corner on the street, the two found it to be a dead end with an alley branching off the street. They did not see where it went but it was the only route open. Darting into the alley, the two sprinted down the lane and took the only corner, to find that the alley was a dead end.

"Dammit!" Ymira cursed out loud. Hearing the crowd of men behind them, they ran to the end of the alley and turned their backs to the wall, facing the direction the men would have to come from.

As the warehouse men appeared around the corner, Ymira readied her broom, (that she had held on to from the warehouse), to defend herself, while Haydee took a step behind her. As the men rounded the corner, they stopped and smiled victoriously. The girls were theirs again.

As the men smiled a figure forced his way through the crowd of men and cut through to the very front of the crowd between the two Wolves and the men. It was Percian, hold a large smiled on his face with a even bigger smirk on his face then the rest of the men.

"It seems like you have no were else to run," he taunted.

"We can still fight," replied Ymira coolly.

"With only that broom? I'm afraid that broom is not much of a weapon. Give up, and I will go easy on you two, deal?"

"Like a sniveling snake bastard like you would ever keep his word!" Replied Haydee.

"Don't try my temper! I can be most violent when I am angry! Do you want me to be angry?" Haydee and Ymira exchanged a glance, but did not give in. Ymira just tightened the grip she had on her broom, and Haydee readied her fist to fight back. "Tch," said Percian, annoyed with them. He then turned his back to the Wolves and addressed his men, "Beat them, but don't kill them. We need them alive, for now."

The mob then laughed at Percian's order and slowly began to walk forward towards the two girls, with clubs and sticks in hand. Haydee and Ymira remained calm, in their minds they agreed, if they were to go down, it would be fighting.

All of a sudden, a figure that seemed to come from nowhere came falling down into the alley just between the two girls and Percian's men. It was Klethi, the red haired assassin, with a big grin on her face.

"Klethi!" said the two Wolves recognizing the assassin.

Klethi smiled, "Been causing trouble I see. You had the rest of us worried."

Percian then forced his way through the crowd again to see what was happening. "Who are you?" he asked loudly. The man's voice echoed through the alleyway and rung in Klethi's ears, and causing her headache from her previous hangover to return.

"Hey!" Klethi shouted back, "Not so damn loud!"

Percian looked at his men confused by her request. Klethi then turned back to the two girls, "Seriously, you two have kept me up all night, and I still have my hangover—"

"I asked You a question, wench!" Yelled Percian.

"And I told ya to SHADUP!" Replied Klethi pulling one of her knives from her belt and gesturing towards the young man with it.

"How did you find us?" Asked Ymira.

"I followed the sound of angry men, sure enough the sounds led me to two girls running away from these men. And I ran on the roof tops all the way here," (Parkour if you play Assassin's Creed),** "**the rest of the way to this alley."

She then turned back to the men and sneered, "Looks like I arrived just in time huh?"

"Yeah," agreed Ymira. Klethi then drew her blade, and handed it to the unarmed Haydee, giving all three of them weapons to defend themselves.

Percian laughed at all three of them, "Do you really think you can hope to beat us?"

"No," smiled Klethi. "We are just here to box you in."

"Box us in?"

"The rest of the Wolves are on their way here, right now. All we have to do now is wait."

"You're lying…" growled Percian. Just then, from up the alley came sounds of fighting, proving Percian's claim false.

"Does that sound like a lie?" asked Klethi boastfully.

Perican growled, "Get them!" And the men did as they were told. Now with three armed fighters, (two and a half technically with Ymira's broom). The three Wolves had no trouble holding off the lightly armed men. Haydee could scare most of the men away with her sword, Klethi could pick them off from afar with her knives, and Ymira knocked the rest of them out with her broom. Within minutes, the other Wolves came around the corner, with the Roses in tow, slowly and surely forcing their way through the mob.

With his men being defeated one by one, the Wolves now surrounded Percian. Panicked, he recognized Haydee in the fighting, and pulled out a dagger from his belt and charged at her. Haydee saw Percian coming, and dodged the man's pathetic attempt of a dagger strike, which only showed he never held a weapon before in his life. Haydee then used the pommel of the sword on the top of Percian's arm, causing him to lose his grip on the dagger. After he dropped his weapon, Haydee quickly kicked his foot away, causing the merchant to fall on his knees. And in a swift motion, Haydee then grabbed his head and, with all of her anger towards that man, kneed Percian in the face. He tried to hold on to his wits, but after a second of pain, he blacked out and fell to the ground, blood gushing from his nose.

In a few more moments, the fight was over, and the rest of Percian men had surrendered to the Roses and Wolves. When it was over, one of the Wolves removed his helm and revealed himself to be Alayen, "Are you two alright?" He asked relieved.

"Alayen!" Exclaimed Ymira running over to him giving him a hug, taking him completely by surprise. For a moment, he did not know what to do, but soon he decided to hug back.

"Where's Roland?" Asked Haydee interrupting the moment.

"He's back at the tournament," said Alayen ending the hug. "Probably ready to lose for you two."

"Well we better let him know we are fine," smiled Haydee. "And that he doesn't have to worry about us anymore."

"Agreed." said Alayen. "Me and a few Wolves will lead you to the tourney field, we don't want this to happen again." Ymira and Haydee nodded in agreement. They would die happy if they never had to go through that experience again.

* * *

"Careful," exclaimed Ali angrily. She was reevaluating her decision to allow the Wolves surgeon Jeremus to look over her after the fight. The two had found a bench for her to sit on under the stands, and Jeremus was busy looking over her.

"Oh, it is not that bad," said Jeremus looking at a bump on her head from Roland's punch. "If I recall, you had a few rougher scraps when you were in the Wolves." He then teased: "Don't tell me you have gotten softer."

"Hardly," replied Ali. "I must have forgotten your methods-OW!"

"Sorry," said Jeremus hoping not to anger her. He looked at the bump, fortunately that is all it was, a bump. "It will heal in a day, it's just a small bump."

"Good, at least this whole event won't scar me." She said spitefully. "As soon as this tournament is over, I'm going to forget the whole thing. It's been nothing but trouble."

"I agree," Said Jeremus. "We were supposed to be relaxing, instead the Wolves are now searching the city late at night and early in the morning. Hardly the break we needed after the Sultanate."

"Where's Roland?" Asked Ali looking around.

"Probably still in the other gate, resting. Hopefully."

"Yeah," said Ali leaning against the wooden wall. "If he's smart. He looked like hell before our round." She smiled, "And he felt worse."

Just then there was a loud cheer from the crowd, followed by the round ending horn. Jeremus and Ali looked at each other. The round was over. Together, the two of them walked over to a unoccupied gate, and looked out into the tournament field. The only figure standing was Xerina.

"It looks like she won," observed Ali.

"Was there ever any doubt?" replied Jeremus.

With the last round before the final complete, there was to be a fifteen-minute break for the fighters to rest before the next round. This was to give the fight who fought last, Xerina in this case, to rest before the final fight, in order to try and make the fight as fair as it could be.

"I better go wake Roland in case he's fallen asleep," said Jeremus.

"I can wake him up," said Ali, cracking her knuckles threateningly. Jeremus smiled at her method of waking people up.

"Just don't hit him in the shoulder," smiled Jeremus.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied smugly.

As the two of them headed back to the gate, they were stopped by two armed men in bright green surcoats, forming a wall preventing the two of them even reaching with twenty feet of the gate Roland was in. "You cannot come any further," one warned them. "Head back to the stands."

"We need to check on Roland," said Jeremus.

"We are taking care of him. We'll make sure he fights. Now get back or we'll use force," said the guard placing his hand on the very real sword strapped on his belt, threaten the two of them.

"Hey!" retorted Ali who did not like being threatened.

"Easy, Ali." said Jeremus putting his hand in front of Ali stopping her from threatening the man. "We will be on our way." Jeremus said while guiding Ali away from the two men. When they were far enough away, Jeremus whispered "Roland's in trouble."

"But what?" Asked Ali.

"No idea," he said looking back at the men. "Do you recognize the colors they were wearing?"

Ali shook her head. "Bright green? I have no idea who they belong to."

"Henderson might," said Jeremus. "And it might give us an idea who is behind this."

* * *

After the break, the horn for the next round found for the final time. Together two gates, one the gate Roland was confided to, and another opened together. As if on cue, the final to fighters then departed their gates together. In Roland's hands was a damaged tournament shield and a wooden sword provided by Count Klargus's men. The Count wanted Roland to fight to the death, so it seemed only fair to provide some weapons for the fight.

Like Roland, the count also provided weapons for Xerina. In addition to the practice sword and shield, Klargus gave her a small iron dagger to make her task of killing Roland easier. The count needed a way for the combatants to kill each other. Whether it was with the knife in Roland's hands or remained in Xerina's it did not matter to the count. Also the fighter carried another item, a letter. If victorious, she was to plant the letter on Roland, incriminating Roland as a paid fighter for Henderson. Of course she did not know that.

As the two walked towards the center of the arena, the uneasy felling in both of their stomach tightened to a knot. As the two tool their places across from each other for the final round, they stared into each other's helmet. For a moment neither said anything.

"I suppose Count Klagrus talked to you too…" said Roland breaking the silence.

"So you know," said Xerina.

"He has ordered you to kill me."

"And you me." Replied Xerina. After saying that the two grew quiet, unsure what to say. "How did it come to this?" Asked Xerina.

"Bad luck," guessed Roland, "It certainly seems that this tournament has brought nothing but that."

When Roland had finished speaking, the horn to prepare was sounded. On cue, the two readied their weapons. Roland lifted his right arm, and flinched in pain. He had placed the battered shield on his right hand, due to the recent dislocation, and he was holding his sword in his left hand. Holding a sword in his left hand was nothing new for Roland, thinking ahead he often practiced with his left incase his right ever was damaged. It was not the sword Roland was concerned about, but rather the shield in his other arm. Apart from the pain, it was a pathetic excuse of a shield and seemed to be held together by strings. It would last on long in this fight.

For what seemed like eternity, the two fighters stood in their prepared stance and stared at each other. As they stood there, Lady Sonadel broke through the silence to say, "I'm sorry, Roland."

"So am I." He replied. After a few seconds he added, "No hard feelings."

"None at all," she agreed.

The horn sounded again and the final round begun.

* * *

In the noble's box, Henderson stood by King Harlaus's side to listen in on the king's comments.

"This should be quite the fight," said Harlaus sitting up in his chair excited. Harlaus always watched the tournament down to the final round, and never missed a minute of the tournament. An unsound rule of the nobles box, when the tournament was on, nobody could talk of anything else to the king other then the tournament. That made Henderson one of the only lords that could talk with the king during tournament; he had enough experience with other "sporting" friends and could make up stats or possible conversations with the king.

"What do you think of this fight Henderson? Who do think will win?"

"Me sir?" Henderson shrugged, "No one in particular. Both seem to be capable fighters. Xerina is trained and disciplined, while Roland is all those and seasoned as well." Henderson then looked out at Roland and noticed the sword in the other hand. "But injured it seems."

"What makes you say that?" Asked Harlaus.

"Roland is holding his sword in his other hand, my King. That could mean the blow he took in the previous fight did something to his other arm. He is fighting with a handicap. It could lessen his chances to win." Henderson wanted to add, "If he plans to win."

Harlaus nodded, seeing Henderson's logic. "Does that make you nervous for your friend? Or for your bets?"

"I haven't made any bets on the final round sir." Replied Harris.

"Hoho, Henderson." Count Montewar chuckled, listening in on the conservation between the two of them. "You have made a bet. One of your servants made a large bet in the favor of Roland to win this morning, with a large bag of denars. In case you have forgotten." With that Montewar returned conversing with some of the other lords not caring about the tournament.

"Oh, so I have…" said Henderson lightly.

"Do you think it is the same person as before?" Harlaus asked, referring to the kidnapping incident from before.

"It would have to be," said Henderson. "I joined your company just after being relieved from the Khanate. I only had three thousand denars when I joined you and kept five of my own personal guards, neither one a "servant"."

"I see," said Harlaus in thought.

"For now sir, don't worry about it." Suggested Henderson. "It might sort itself out."

Harlaus nodded, and returned to watching his tournament, and Henderson returned to the King's side.

"My King," came a voice on the opposite side of the King. Harlaus and Henderson looked up from the round and looked at the owner of the voice. It was Count Klargus. "I have something that needs to be discussed with you urgently."

Harlaus sighed annoyed, "Count Klargus, I am in the middle of watching a tournament. I believe it can wait till later!"

Henderson watched the Count's reaction to the King's ignoring his request. Surprisingly he did not react with anger like he normally did; instead he just smiled politely and said, "Understood. My king." And he turned to leave the booth the Nobles had. Henderson's eyes stayed on the Count as he turned and walked behind the rest of the nobles. The smile on his face seemed unnatural for the Count. After Klargus left, Henderson returned his eyes to the fight down in the arena, but his mind remained after the count's smile.

* * *

Down in the arena Roland and Xerina were in the heat of battle. Even with Roland using his weak hand with his blade, the two were dead even in skill.

Xerina lunged forward and swung her blade at Roland's chest. He dodged the blade and countered with a swing from his blade at her arm. She was able to block the sword and step back to her original distance. This was a typical exchange of the two had in this fight, neither really directly hitting each other for the longest time.

After about a minute of this exchange, Roland swung his blade at Xerina's head, nicking the tip of her helm, but doing no damage to her. Unbeknownst to her, the hit loosened her helmet straps' grip on her head. Continuing the fight, Roland and Xerina exchanged a few more blows. Seeing and opening, Roland was able to force is blade's pommel at the lower part of her helm were it met her armor. As the wooden handle of the blade met the metal helm, the cool metal smacked the warm skin of Xerina in her lower jaw. The hit made her bite a bit of her cheek, making her mouth fill with blood. After she took a step back, she swallowed the blood and moved her jaw up and down to dull the pain in it; as she did that she failed to notice the leather strap under her chin had torn off its holder and was dangling on the left side of her helmet.

Not noticing the strap, Xerina recovered from the hit and attacked Roland again. After exchanging blows, Xerina built up a power attack and swung at Roland's head. With the added power to the attack, she was forced to tilt her body and head back to add her weight to the attack; causing her helmet to shift up and the slits for vision moved away from her eyes and she became blind in her helmet.

Ignoring the blindness, Xerina swung down hard at the last spot she saw Roland at. As the sword cut through the air, her head then shifted down the helmet shifted again, this time the eye slits fell to the bottom of her eyes, blinding her again. As the blade fell, the spot where she felt Roland would have been was nothing but air. The added weight to her attack made her go a step forward to regain her balance. Blinded because of her helmet, she could not see Roland, but she could hear him, he was a step away, and she could tell from her the sound of his clothes, that he was countering her.

And she was right, he was. Before she could react, Roland had made his blade kissed Xerina's head. The hit caused an uproar in the crowd, who all cheered Roland on. The hit made Xerina stumble backwards, with her helmet falling of her head.

"No," she thought realizing if she lost her helmet her identity would be revealed to the crowd, there was a small chance that her father would recognize her from his booth, but if someone found out about her identity and word spread to her father, there would little need to do Count Klargus's bidding.

As she felt the helmet side off her head, her heart began to race, worried about the potential outcome if her helmet came off. "No…" she said out loud.

* * *

"Finally," said Ymira, as she, Haydee, Alayen, Klethi and Deshavi arrived at the tournament arena. "I never thought I would be so glad to see this place."

"Agreed," smiled Haydee. Just then there was a loud cheer from the arena, (from Roland's hit on Xerina), that made all of them look up at the stands. "I wonder if that is Roland's fight now," said Haydee.

"It probably is," said Alayen. "But hey all he has to do is lose, and this nightmare is over."

"That doesn't sound hard," smiled Klethi.

"Alayen!" Came a voice from under the stands. All of them looked at the source of the voice, it was Jeremus with Ali behind him. When the two saw Ymira and Haydee, Jeremus and Ali seemed to have a bright look in their eyes. "I see you two are alright." Said Jeremus, smiling.

Ymira and Hardee nodded. "Great," said Ali, "Now I can tell my sisters that this search was a waste."

"Why is she here?" Asked Ymira confused to she Jeremus so chummy with Ali.

"Roland asked for my help to find you two." Explained Ali. "You're welcome."

"Thanks," both Haydee and Ymira said. "Is Roland fighting?" Asked Ymira.

"Yeah," sighed Jeremus. "It's the final round. Roland vs. Xerina. It seems to be quite the fight."

"He's putting a lot of effort into losing huh?" Smiled Klethi.

Jeremus shook his head. "I don't think so. It's like he wants to win, which may not be so easy for him."

"Why?" Asked Deshavi.

"I dislocated his shoulder in our round," admitted Ali.

"And you were supposed to be helping?" Asked Klethi in her blunt manner.

"Either way," butted in Jeremus, "Something is wrong. We better let him know you two are all right. He might be able to see you from the arena if you stand in the front of the stands." All of them nodded, and walked into the arena to see the final round.

* * *

As Sonadel felt her helmet slowly begin to lift off of her head, she could hear the footsteps of her opponent, Roland coming towards her at a very quick pace. She assumed he was moving to finish her off, and save his two Wolves. Deep down she could not blame him for trying to win.

But, he merely tackled her and grabbed her helmet and forced it back down on her head. After her helm was back on her head, Roland gave her a push, to help her get back on her feet, while appearing to be fighting her. When she stopped moving back, she stared through the slits of her helm now perfectly aligned with her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"If your helmet falls off, then we both lose. Right?" Said Roland, knowing there might be little chance of the Wolves being released if Sonadel lost her identity. Count Klargus would have no hold on her, and his plans could be ruined having little reason to keep the two Wolves around or alive. Roland then readied his sword, and glared at Xerina. "Let's continue the fight."

Xerina then adjusted her helmet further on her head and also readied her blade, adding, "Let's." And the two begun their dance again.

This time Xerina was far more cautious with her attacks, now with her helmet lightly on her head and could not be held down on her head other than through gravity. With her more conserved attacks, Roland was able to block all of the attacks with his sword and battered shield. But this time, Roland failed to notice his shield was now breaking apart, being hung together with only strings.

Meanwhile, in the stands, the group of Wolves were forcing through the stands trying to get to the front of the stands. They knew that something was wrong, with the intensity Roland was fighting at. He was trying, to win it seemed. Which was contrary to what the note told Roland to do, Jeremus and Alayen thought.

"It's quite a fight," said Klethi observing the fight. "Which one is Roland?"

"The one with the tattered shield," reported Alayen who had asked one of the crowd who had seen the whole tournament.

"Keep pushing you two," said Jeremus to Ymira and Haydee. "Get to the front and try to get Roland's attention. Before he does something he might regret." Ymira and Haydee nodded, and begun shoving their way through the stands, getting closer to the arena and the final fight.

Roland breathed heavily under his helmet, and blocked another hit coming in from Xerina. He felt his left arm burn from fatigue, and is right still lightly stung from the earlier dislocation. He needed to finish this, for the two Wolves. He needed to kill her. But there was something blocking him from doing it, some inner pull. Maybe it was the fact he was in the same situation as she was, and if he killed her she would be exposed as a false contestant. He was unsure what would happen, but it would be bad for her and her family.

So for now he was stalling it seems, but for what? He was hoping for a miracle, he guessed. But thoughts of what it might be would have to wait. Xerina's attack required his full attention. Bringing his sword above his head, he blocked the incoming attack from Xerina. As the swords made contact, Roland then felt a sudden pressure in his chest, forcing him back. It was Xerina using her shield to bash at his chest.

The hit, made Roland stagger back a step, and before he could recover, Xerina swung her blade quickly and connected with Roland's helmet. Like Xerina's helmet, the hit made Roland's helmet strap break and his helmet went flying off of Roland's head, as he fell to his knee to the arena's dirt. Like Xerina, blood was filling Roland's mouth from the hit to his cheek. Spiting the blood out of his mouth, quickly Roland got back on his feet and took a defensive stance. Ignoring the fact he had lost his helmet.

Xerina looked at Roland's now that he was helmless, his face was covered in sweat and had a line of blood trickle down from his mouth. His eyes were focused on her, his opponent in this fight. His eyes then seemed to dart from her for a second, and to the arena behind her. When he looked behind her, something in his eyes changed from determined to a look of confusion to one of relief. Roland had caught sight of the two kidnapped Wolves Ymira and Haydee in the front of the stands.

Xerina then took Roland's distraction as a chance to strike, lunging forward; she twisted her arm over her chest and swung her blade at Roland's right side. Delayed by the distraction, Roland moved his shield to block. He was able to block the sword with his shield. The blow hit the shield, and caused the shield to break into dozen of pieces. With the shield gone, the blade still continued on it's path, striking Roland's right arm.

Even with the sword loosing force breaking apart Roland's shield, the hit his arm just below the shoulder, causing a brutally painful pain to rise up his arm, paralyzing Roland with pain.

"It's now or never," thought Xerina reluctantly. She was three steps away from Roland, and finishing this fight. She exhaled one more time and charged forward.

As she took her first step, she let her blade fall from her right hand and she reached behind her back where the dagger was hidden and grabbed the handle of the real weapon. As she took her second step, she had removed the dagger and pull the weapon in between her and Roland, with the tip pointed at him. The dagger itself was no more then a few inches long. By now Roland saw the dagger and had shifted his eyes to Sonadel's. If she were not wearing her helmet, Roland would have noticed tears of water on the corner of her eyes, on the verge of tears but not actual tears.

As she took the final step, the space between closed between the two. The two were now within an foot of each other, as if they were dancers in a dance together. In those seconds time stood still for Xerina and Roland, their eyes stared at each other and they spoke novels of information.

With one thrust, she forced the dagger into Roland's belly. As the dagger went past the colored surcoat and the outer tournament armor, she stopped not having the desire to force the dagger any further into the man. As the dagger struck Roland, he exhaled as of he the wind knocked out of him, as if it was a fist and not a knife in his gut. Holding the dagger in the spot it was in, Lady Sonadel could fell a warm liquid flow from the tip of the dagger down to the handle of the blade and all over her hand. Repulsed from the idea of blood on her hands, she pulled the dagger from Roland's body.

As the small blade was removed from his body, the liquid began to flow from his body and paint the ground red.

From the stands, the watchers could see the red liquid coming from the one fighter. In the front of them all was the Wolf, Haydee, she knew what the liquid was, and who its source was, but she could not believe it. "ROLAND!" She cried seeing the blood come from Roland.

As he stood their holding his gut, trying to put pressure on the wound. He then lean forward weakly over Sonadel and said weakly, "No hard feelings…" and after staying that it seemed his energy failed him, and he fell to the ground with a hard _thud_.

* * *

"What is going on down there?" Demanded King Harlaus now out of his chair and standing leaning out of the booth trying to see what was happening down in the field.

"I have no idea," said Henderson, close behind the king, concerned over the figure in the center of the field, in the dirt not moving. He knew it was Roland. But as to what happened, he could only guess.

"My King," came a familiar voice from behind them. Both turned to see Count Klargus standing beside the King's seat with a blank face on his face. "I have some unsettling news. I have uncovered a plot within your great tournament, of someone rigging the fighters and making bets on the rigged fighters! I must regret to inform you that it is your beloved Henderson, my king."

For a moment Harlaus was silent, he was cautious with his reply, "I see. And I suppose you have some proof. Some DAMNING proof, Count Klargus."

"Of course, my King," the Count smiled ominously.

* * *

Back down in the arena, Xerina stood over Roland, with the murder weapon in her hand, covered in his blood. Seeing the liquid drip from the tip of the blade she cast it aside, sickened by the blood on it. She had never killed someone before. She felt her gut wrench as she stared at the body, as if she was about to vomit. Swallowing hard, she kneeled on one knee beside the body, and whispered, "I'm sorry." Shaking her head lightly, she then took the letter that Count Klargus gave her and as he instructed her, tucked it under Roland's armor.

She had to force herself not to punch her leg in anger against the plan. But she remembered what was on the line for her; why she needed to do it. Standing on her feet, Xerina then felt a sting in her injured leg, as if it was tugging on her memory. She immediately remembered that Roland knew of her leg, and yet he did not strike it. It was as if he wanted to fight fairly with her and not resort to some cheap hit for a win. After thinking that, her gut twisted even further. She then turned her back to the arena and began to walk back to her gate, and she hoped to freedom from this nightmare.

The crowds in the stands were an unsettling quiet for a victor of the tournament. After seeing the blood come from Roland's body, a large hush came over the fans. While a death or two in a tournament was not usual, this one was unexpected for them. The cheerers exchanged glances towards each other, trying to figure out what just happened. Most believed they witnessed a murder, but they could not tell from their stands.

As the gates opened, Xerina glanced back to Roland one final time, he was still in the ground and motionless. Sighing depressed, she went through the gates and left the arena behind her. After a few steps into the stands, the gate dropped into the ground behind her, and several of Count Klargus's men stepped out from the ends of the hallway and effectively sealed her in between them and the gate. "Count Klargus will be down shortly to address what happened out there," one of them said.

Xerina said nothing, and did not move. She did not expect this to turn out well for her, she had murdered someone in the tournament, that alone would blacklist her against all of the other tournaments in the Realm, so effectively her career as a tournament fighter was over. But that was the least of her worries, if she cared any longer. She now was numb with indifference, and still a daze of shock over what happened.

After about a minute of waiting, the two guards then were signaled that their lord was nearby, and they motioned Xerina to follow them. After a brief walk into the waiting area for the fighters, Xerina was brought before King Harlaus himself, and the two counts Klargus and Henderson. She felt their gazes on her like they were a panel of judges deciding her fate. In defiance to respect, Xerina kept her helm on. She was positive that the King would recognize her, and if he did everything she did would be for nothing

"What is this about, Count Klargus?" Asked Harlaus, looking at the smiling Count.

"Simple my lord," replied Count Klargus. "I have recently discovered that your trusted lord, Count Henderson," he said looking at Henderson, "is guilty of rigging your tournament, my king."

Harlaus shot a glance at Henderson, who was standing calming behind the king. "You better have some damning proof Count Klargus."

"Oh I do my king." Boasted Klargus. He then stood behind Xerina and placed his hand on her shoulders, like she was his daughter. "This fighter, Xerina, came to me this morning at admitted something in secret to me. She swore that Henderson was holding some secret of hers against her, and she was being forced to work for him." Xerina just lowered her head to the ground, and said nothing, she felt sickened even further by the Count's tale. "She informed me, that Henderson tried to get her to lose this round to Roland, his own personal dog."

"Then why did she win?" Asked Harlaus.

"I promised her protection if she win the round, and helped me prove Henderson a fraud." He then took his arms from her and said with an undertone of disgust, "It seems she used her own methods to ensure victory."

"What do you mean?" Asked the King.

"I…" started Sonadel, "I killed him… I killed Roland of the Wolves with a dagger I had hidden on me sir."

Henderson and King Harlaus look at each other with surprise. Then Henderson looked at Sonadel and asked, "You what?"

"She killed him," stepped forward Klargus answering for her. "It was the only way she could win." He then turned to her disappointed, "I am afraid she will have to pay for that later. I cannot turn away from this deed that you have done, my girl." Xerina looked down again; even she thought that about herself.

"If testimony from his fight is all that you have Count Klargus is all that you have, it is not enough in my mind to convict anyone," said the King folding his arms.

"Ah, my king. I am sure we can find more evidence on the deceased," replied Klargus calmly.

"You mean Roland?" Asked Henderson now sounding angry.

"Yes, he may not be able to testify with his mouth, but I am sure we might find something on his person to incriminate Henderson."

"So that is what the letter was for," realized Xerina to herself.

"My King, we must search the body. There might be something of value on it!" Count Klargus demanded to the king.

"Hey now, I have feelings too, Klargus…" came a voice from the end of the waiting area. All four turned to see a figure leaning his back on one of the walls that formed the gate's hallway with his arms folded. It was Roland. "Last time I checked I am not a "body"."

"You!" Said Klargus surprised.

"It can't be…" though Xerina staring at the very much aloe Roland.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Said Klargus.

"Am I?" Asked Roland walking towards the four. "Who said that?"

"Well this is a surprise," said King Harlaus.

"But the blood? I saw blood, I felt blood on my hands," said Xerina holding out her stained hand. Roland smiled and reached under his padded armor to bring out a pierced leather bag covered in a red liquid. Jeremus's wine skin.

"Wine skin," explained Roland. "Cut it open and it spills wine." He chuckled, "Wine looks a lot like blood from really far away."

"Or with tears in your eyes," thought Sonadel.

"Grr, Search him! He has evidence on him!" Shouted the Count to the King.

"I don't know what you are talking about," shrugged Roland. "I don't have anything on me."

"You liar!" Count Klargus retorted. "My King, search him. He has a letter on him saying that he took bribes from Henderson!" The very second after the count said that, a triumphant grin grew on Roland's face, and he began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Demanded Count Klargus.

"Your right," admitted Roland pulling a sealed letter from his pocket. "I did lie. I do have this letter on me…" Klargus then smiled as well, "You see my King he—"

"However," butted in Roland. "How do you know about what is in this letter Count Klargus? As you can see," Roland flipped the letter to reveal the red wax seal on the letter, "the letter remains sealed, and yet you seem to know a lot about what it says." Count Klargus's brow then moistened with a cold sweat. "Care to explain that?"

The attention of the King then shifted from Xerina as the one on trail to Count Klargus. The count was at a loss for words, and Roland could see in his eyes he was trying to think of an explanation. Not giving the count time to give an explanation, Roland continued, "I believe a very likely explanation is that you wrote this letter yourself, Count Klargus. That is how you know what is on this letter before you even have had a chance to read it."

"Now," Roland walked towards the Count and waved the letter in the air, "if the king were to read the letter and it were to contain the information that you just said, it would look very coincidental. Almost too fitting, if you ask me."

"Careful," Warned Count Klargus leaning close and lowering is voice, "You have a lot to lose, or don't you remember?"

Roland smiled whispering back, "That threat would have pull on me, if I did not know that my two Wolves were freed and are now in the stands above us. You have nothing on me anymore, Count. But now I have everything on you." And he stepped to the side of the count and passed by him saying, "My king, I have a confession to make. I was bribed to ensure a certain outcome of this fight. But not by Henderson, but rather by Count Klargus himself."

"My lord, do not listen to him!" Protested Klargus.

"Quiet, Count Klargus. I heard your claims, now I am listening to Roland's." King Harlaus pronounced, stonewalling Count Klargus from interrupting. He then flashed his palm to give Roland permission to continue.

"Last night after I left the feast, I had received word that two from my company were kidnapped and being held ransom. In order to get them back I needed to win in the first round today, and lose in the final round. And I was willing to comply, until Xerina's preliminary round, when I was approached by Count Klargus, revealing to me that he was the one behind this kidnapping, and altered the arrangement. He then ordered me that I would have to kill Xerina in order to save my two people. And that Xerina would be ordered to do the same."

Harlaus looked at Xerina and asked, "Why would she have the same instructions as you?"

Roland then walked up to the king and whispered, "Count Klargus was threatening to reveal a sensitive secret of hers. One that would forbid her from entering any other tournaments."

Harlaus then glanced at Xerina, but said nothing just nodded lightly following what Roland was saying. Roland then handed the King the letter. "I can swear to you, King Harlaus I did not write this letter. And I can promise you that Henderson is in no way responsible for this tournament rigging he is accused of."

Harlaus held the letter in his hand, and played with the with the wax seal on the parchment. He then looked at Xerina. She seemed to be at the center of both stories, and the one whose word would prove either one or the other.

"What do you have to say to all of this Xerina?" The King asked, "You seem to be the center of all of these plots in a way. And only you can really tip the balance to say which one is true. So which is it?"

Xerina froze with surprise, she was now the center of the attention again, this time by four people and not just three. Her eyes moved around and met with all of the other eyes. Her first glance was to the King himself, his eyes were grey and seasoned with age, yet he seemed annoyed. Perhaps by this whole affair tainting his tournament, she guessed. The she looked at Henderson. She had seen him before on many occasions, but never had a good look of his eyes until now. They were sharp and bright green. They had a clever look to them like a fox's eyes. But they also had an undertone of emotion, not pleading but rather a lesser form of that, hoping that she would say something that would stop this whole business.

The next one she looked at was Count Klargus, the plotter himself. His eyes were dark, ominous and distrusting. But he wore a look that made Sonadel shudder, as if he was screaming, "you know what is at stake here." And finally there was Roland, and his eyes. His eyes were soft and trusting, almost smiling. He seemed to believe that she would help him out, like he knew she was at odds with herself. How she hated the fact she was at Count Klargus' mercy.

After looking at all four eyes, she looked to the ground and made up her mind. "My King," answered Xerina, "the claim that Roland has made against Count Klargus is…" she paused to reflect her decision, and it made her laugh a little as to the little reason for her decision, Roland has come this far with his little stunt, why have it end here? "…True. Roland and I were puppets to the Count as his claims."

"Why you little bitch!" Said Count Klargus rushing towards her. But before he got a foot closer to Xerina, Roland stepped in and stood in between her and the Count.

He stared down the Count and said, "I'd be careful here Count. You have already thrown out many false accusations today. I would suggest you hold your tongue, because I doubt the king would care to listen to you any further."

For a moment the five stood silent as King Harlaus closed his eyes and paused in thought. After a moment he opened his eyes and stared at Count Klargus. "Count Klargus, after hearing the testimony of Roland and Xerina, I am inclined to believe that you are the one behind this." "My lord, please listen," the Count pleaded. "Enough, I have had my suspicions that you were unhappy as a count in your service to Swadia, and now this rigging of the tournament proves it."

King Harlaus then walked to Count Klargus and stood in front of him, "As of this moment, I disown you as a Count for the Kingdom of Swadia. You have until the end of the day to leave Dhirim, and the end of the week to leave Swadian lands. If you are found within the lands at all, you will be treated like an outlaw and traitor."

"But my king, where will I go?"

"I do not care! Anywhere but here! Understand?"

The Count stared at the King, with fear in his eyes, as if this was the one thing he never could have imaged would have happened to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the king's stare broke him. For a tense moment, the Count just stood there barely able to hold his pose. Then he broke away from the king's stare and began to head for the nearest exit. At first he was slow and cautious, then he begun to walk briskly away, not turning his head back once for fear of the King.

When he was gone, Harlaus sighed annoyed, "He was on my nerves ever since Suno. I guess this was not all that surprising." He then turned to look at Xerina and Roland. "Now, what to do about this…" he said in thought. Roland and Xerina looked at each other confused to what the king was referring two. "According to you two, Count Klargus rigged this tournament. So that means that the outcome of this tournament is not what it should have been, right?" Roland chuckled, he had forgotten all about it. "So I am obligated to call a rematch."

"Pardon my lord, but there is another way to resolve this. Instead of fighting again why not declare a draw?" King Harlaus looked at the source of the voice, it was Henderson with a sheepish smile on his face. "I mean the fighters must be tired after their fights and perhaps do not want to fight again for a while."

The King glanced back to Roland and Xerina, who understood what Henderson was saying. Roland was exhausted, his right arm hurt from the hit he had received from the previous fight and it's dislocation. Xerina was no better, her leg was throbbing in pain and she had used up all of her energy in the last fight. The sound of another round did not sound appeasing to either of them.

"I would agree to that…" Roland smiled weakly.

"And I as well…" copied Xerina.

King Harlaus looked at the two and raised a brow in bewilderment. He found it odd that neither wanted to win this tournament. He sighed disappointed and said, "Well I guess that is an acceptable way to go about it… I certainly had more fun watching this tournament then any of the other's I had this year." He then nodded and made up his mind, "I will call it a draw." He then smiled, "I hope you two will then visit us in the castle tonight for the final night of the feast."

"Perhaps," said Xerina.

Roland chuckled, "I doubt I will be able to, King Harlaus. I have been up since last night my king, and my body is now in protest because of it."

"Shame," said the king disappointed. "Oh well, another time, Roland."

"Another time," agreed Roland. And with that the King of Swadia turned and left for the nobles' booth to declare the verdict and end the tournament.

When he was gone, Henderson stepped forward and sighed relieved, "Phew, that was a close one wasn't, Roland?"

"Yeah," the Wolf sighed. "And now it's worked out for the better, hasn't it?"

"It seems so," agreed Henderson. He then looked at Xerina and smiled, "Wouldn't you agree, Lady Sonadel?"

Xerina seemed to freeze solid after hearing her alter ego, "How—How do you know my name?"

"Roland told me last night as we searched for his Wolves," admitted Henderson. Lady Sonadel turned her head slowly at Roland. She was cross with him, and it made Henderson laugh, "Do not worry, My Lady. Your secret is safe with me. I personally do not care if you want to fight in tournaments for your own pleasure."

Lady Sonadel looked at Henderson, who gave her a reassuring smile. Trusting him, she removed her helmet and revealed her face to him. "Well, there is no longer any need to keep this on," she sighed. Her face was still red from the fight and her brow was covered in sweat. The cool air under the stand was welcomed to the lady.

"I have to admit, you two were neck and neck out there. I was unsure who would win in the end," praised Henderson.

"Thank you, my lord." Sonadel said, accepting his praise.

"Please," he requested. "You can address me as "Lord" when other lords are about, but here, just Henderson." Sonadel nodded grateful to be rid of the formality.

"So," said Roland looking at the doorway where Count Klargus fled. "Count Klargus was the one behind it all…"

"It seems so," nodded Henderson, "He always spited me after I took Suno from him, and he was the Count I always suspected would do something like this to me. And he was the one of the Counts who wanted Xerina to advance rather then Hagan." He then exhaled hatefully, "I should have seen it… he was blackmailing Sonadel…"

"Henderson," said Roland understandingly, "It's not your fault. And I mean what does it matter? It worked out in the end."

Henderson chuckled once and said, "I guess you are right." Henderson then raised an eyebrow, "By the way how did you know Haydee and Ymira were safe?"

"I saw them in the stands with some of the other Wolves, that's how I knew— Oh crap," said Roland realizing something. "I have to go."

"Why?" Asked Henderson.

"The Wolves still think I am dead! I better tell them the good news!" Roland quickly turned to sprint out of the arena to find his men.

"Roland," shouted Henderson after him. Roland slowed down and turned to listen in, "I'll swing by your inn later tonight, I will talk to you then." Roland gave a quick nod and continued running to his men.

Henderson shook his head and laughed. He then turned to Sonadel and said, "You better get that helmet on and get back to the castle if you want to keep Xerina in future tournaments."

The lady looked away from the running Wolf and nodded to his request. As she placed her helm on, she asked, "Henderson, what inn is he staying at?"

* * *

It took Roland a good five minutes to get out of the arena and find the troop with their black surcoats. They all seemed to gathered around someone in the middle of the crowd. It was Haydee, with tears in her eyes being consoled by Ymira who also had tears hers. Everyone in the troop seemed to be sad, and wore a long face.

Roland decided it was not wise to boisterously shout he was alright. And he slowly walked up to them and tapped one of them in the shoulder. As the man turned to see who tapped him, when he saw it was his captain, his face grew wide and amazed, like he had seen a ghost.

After he turned, another Wolf joined, and another and so forth, until all of the Wolves were looking back at him. When Ymira recognized Roland, her face showed she was unsure what to think until a wide smile grew across the blonde's face. She was happy to see he was alright. She then shook Haydee to have her look up. The young Wolf's face rose up slowly, and Roland's eyes met Haydee's. He was wearing a sheepish smile on his face, as if to say "Sorry I tricked you."

At first Haydee thought she was dreaming, that he was back from the dead. But as she whipped the tears from her eyes, she knew her eyes were not playing tricks. Without a moment of hesitation, Haydee rushed Roland, grabbing him around his chest giving him a tight hug and forced her head on the top of Roland's chest. Roland grunted in pain because she grabbed him around his right arm as well and squeezed. "Ow, ow owowowowow. Haydee…" said Roland in pain.

Haydee then let he grip loose hearing his complaints of pain. She then looked up at Roland confused and worried, thinking he was still wounded. He looked down at her and smiled, and explained that the arm was in pain from it being dislocated earlier. She then lessened her grip to let his arm out of her arms, when the arm was clear, the Sarranid girl then hugged Roland again.

This time he did not stop her, and placed this hand on her head as she said, "I was afraid I lost you… That I would have to be alone again…"

"Hey," said Roland softy, "No more of this; you have changed. Remember?"

"Still," she sniffed. "Promise me you will never do this to me again…"

Roland smiled and tilted her head to look in her eyes, "I will… **IF **you promise me that you will not cry like this again, and you never get kidnapped again."

Haydee smiled, "They got lucky, if I was not carrying Ymira I could have taken them."

Roland chuckled, "I don't doubt that, but promise me that, and I will not do something like this to you again. Deal?"

"Deal," she nodded. Haydee then smelt an odor come from Roland's pierced padded leather. "Why do you smell like wine?" She asked.

"It's…" started Roland, but then he felt his motivation vanish with the passing of a yawn from his mouth. "A long story that will have to wait until I get some rest." He then looked up at all of the other Wolves and said, "I'm sure we all could use some rest." The company cheered in agreement. "Then let's head back to the inn. It's been one hell of a long tournament." And together, the entire company of Wolves headed back to the inn. Grateful for the end of this tournament.

* * *

End Notes

Long chapter but hey it certainly was worth it. I had trouble being consistent with it due to live and my procrastination. I have been looking forward with the chapter for awhile now, especially the scene with Roland and Haydee at the end.

I also started watching the show on the History Channel, _Vikings._ It's pretty good, but not _Game of Thrones _good. But it does give a decent picture of Viking lore and life back then it seems, which I say because it reminds me of the Nords in the game itself.

The surprise I am working on his getting closer and closer to being done, but I still need your help! I hope to have them out by the time this story reaches 5000 views, so please any and all ideas are welcome!

Cheers

Indogma


	28. 5000 Views!

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

The Completion of the Surprise

And

5000 views!

About a few days ago, the Warband of Wolves has hit a milestone in my opinion. It has reached the 5000 view mark! Whoohoo! Because of that, I want to thank all of you by showing all of my readers, the surprise I was working on!

Over the past couple of months, I have been drawing the companions of the Warband of Wolves. And now I am done, (or I should say, done with all that I am going to draw), and now I have posted them on devantArt for all to see! Should you want to.

In the end, I did less then I promised to do, mostly because I ran out of time before the story hit 5000 views, and I was not motivated to do some of them. I wound up doing, Ymira, Jeremus, Alayen, Haydee (again), Matheld, Klethi, Deshavi, Ali, and as a added bonus, Lady Sonadel.

As far as the contest, Focair won, he gave good ideas for Matheld, Ymira and Alayen's characters.

Anyway, I want to thank you all again for your time, and your praise… I am not worthy…

Cheers and Salutations,

Yours truly,

Indogma.

PS, I have yet to start the next chapter, due to the amount of work finals are requiring of me, so it might be a little bit yet.

Also, if any of my readers are artists, and want to draw their own versions of the companions, I would be happy to encourage you to do it. All that I ask, if it is from the story, you mention that in the description.


	29. The End of the Tourney

Mount and Blade-

The Warband of Wolves

By Indogma

Inspired by the Mount and Blade Series, primarily the game: Mount and Blade: Warband.

The End of the Tourney

As the city of Dhirim began to dim in the evening, the fans of the tournament crowded the streets and the local gathering places celebrating the end of the tournament. However unlike most of the other tournaments the celebrating after the tournament was mellow at best. The main damper of the celebrating was the fact that the tournament was a draw, making it a big mystery as to who won. Cheers were replaced with speculations, and where heavy drinking often took place was substituted with debate and arguments, (some turning violent), about who should have won the tourney. Amidst this lack of festivities there was one place were the celebrations where lively, the inn where the Wolves had claimed.

There came a loud cheer from the inn, its reason lost in the yelling that followed it. Inside the inn Roland sat at a table surrounded by several other wolves all holding ale pints with cool or warm ale in them. Roland seemed like the odd man in the group, he was exhausted and sore, with his right arm in a sling that Jeremus had made for him. He would rather be up in bed and sleeping the pain away, but the voices of the Wolves made that hope impossible. He had even turned down a invitation to head to the castle for the final night of feasting to get some sleep, but with this level of noise, he had started to regret his decision.

From behind, and hard punch came flying into his right arm, causing a wave of pain to rise up his arm making him to scream painfully and grabbed his shoulder with his free hand. "Ow!"

"Sorry, I keep forgetting that is your bad arm," said Klethi indifferently.

"That's why it's in a sling!" Retorted Roland.

Klethi shrugged, "I still don't know how that works." As Roland let a grunt from the aftershock pain coming from his arm, he saw the empty pint loosely hanging in the girl's fingers.

"Klethi, how many of those have you had tonight?"

Klethi looked at the pint and shrugged again, "More then this one, sir."

Roland frowned, "no doubt not the last one tonight," he thought. "Well I hope Deshavi will keep an eye on you." Said Roland.

"Oh, don't worry sir, she's had way more then me by now!" And with that declaration, she turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

Roland then took his free hand and rubbed away a headache that seemed to appear out of nowhere. "I am not going to deal with that," he said to himself, "I am not going to deal with that."

"Well," came a voice in front of the table, "it seems the Wolves waste no time celebrating a draw. I certainly would like to see the party when you actually win." Roland looked up and saw Count Henderson at the other end of the table Roland was sitting at, wearing a big smile. "I decided to duck out of the festival tonight, I hope the king won't mind."

"Henderson," said Roland not surprised to see him.

"If exhausted had a look, you would fill the part," comment Henderson proud with his little analogy.

"Yeah," agreed Roland, "And what's worst is that this people let me rest."

"I bet," said Henderson looking around at the Wolves celebrating. "They are loud enough to wake anyone." He then turned to Roland and said, "I'd like to speak with you… privately."

Roland nodded, "Sure. I have a room we can use. I has some wine in it as well." Slowly Roland stood up and led Henderson up the stairs to a room with a table in it with a jug of wine and some goblets on the table. Henderson took a goblet and begun to pour some wine into the cup.

"That was quite the stunt you pulled today, the whole coming back from the dead… it was a brilliant plan."

"Yeah," laughed Roland, "Except it wasn't planned…" he admitted his voice trailing off. Henderson stopped pouring wine and shot is attention to Roland's face. His look was nothing but bewilderment. "It was luck if anything," explained Roland. "I had forgotten all about the wine skin, but as soon as soon as Sonadel had cut into it, I knew I could play it off as blood."

"I hope you don't plan to make that a habit," said Henderson gravely.

Roland shook his head, "Hell no. I know that was a miracle what happened today, and it would take more then a miracle to redo that."

"Good," sighed Henderson pouring wine into the other goblet, and handing the first one to Roland. "Still," he continued, "coming back from the dead, it has a certain supernatural tone to it. Everyone is taking about it, now instead of my dog the Counts are calling you the "Resurrected Man"."

Roland grunted to himself, he had heard about that as well thanks to his Wolves They had given him several rounds of loud toasts for that nickname alone. Perry was even working on a song for Roland. In truth, he was annoyed at this name and it's popularity that came from it.

"You may become a legend from this," smiled Henderson taking a drink. Roland on the other hand was looking into his wine.

"I hope not," he sighed, "It may be more trouble then its worth." Henderson lightly laughed picturing the trouble Roland meant.

"How are Ymira and Haydee?" Henderson asked.

"They are fine," smiled Roland happy to be rid of the previous topic. "They are downstairs now, getting their fill of ale and happy to be free again."

"Good," smiled Henderson. "I thought I would let you know, that weasel Percian will not be a nuisance to you again."

'What do you mean by that?" Asked Roland, worried about what Henderson was implying.

Henderson chuckled after realizing how dark he sounded, "I meant I spoke to his father and King Harlaus, and he has been blacklisted from the merchant community as well as due to receive punishment from the king." He then smiled, "His father was more then happy to be rid of his disgrace of a son once he learned that Percian had used his warehouse for a kidnapping. Besides, Percian has brothers far more competent then him, so his father can cut his ties from his son without worry." He took a sip from the goblet, "So he won't bother those two again."

Roland nodded glad of the loss of that bastard.

"How's the arm?" Asked Henderson pointing to Roland's sling.

"Sore to say the least. Between Haydee crushing it and Klethi punching it I am surprised if it will heal at all," said Roland moving his arm in its socket. Henderson laughed, hearing Roland grunt in pain.

"Have to talked Haydee yet?" Asked Henderson taking a sip from his goblet.

"About?"

"Anything."

Roland shrugged as he thought back to the previous few days, "Not really, with the kidnapping and the tournament. I haven't had the chance to really talk with her." Roland then asked suspiciously, "Why?"

Henderson sighed, "Well I was hoping she would have talked to you Roland, but it seems you haven't had the time." Roland just looked confuse. "Haydee likes you, Roland. Romantically, perhaps."

Roland turned away, "I see…"

Henderson raised an eyebrow; there was disappointment in Roland's voice. "You're not happy about this?"

"How can I be when it would never work?"

Meanwhile, back down in the inn, the Wolves were even drunker and becoming more rowdy, save a few. Jeremus and Alayen were at a table in the corner watching the antics that the Wolves where committing. In a chair opposite them, sat Ymira face first on the table, passed out only after two full pints of ale. The two men were looking after her to make sure she was alright, while playing a game of Vert. From the crowd Haydee made her way from the crowd and to the table with two jugs of wine for the table.

Placing the jug on the table she looked at the passed out Ymira, "Is she alright?"

Jeremus shook her shoulder making her entire body shake, but she did not stir, still out cold. "Fine," nodded Jeremus, "Just in a drunk sleep."

"I see," said Haydee, lifting one of Ymira's arms and letting it fall to the table with a hard _thud_. "Well she has been through a lot," sighed Haydee.

"As have you," said Jeremus.

Haydee nodded, "It was a long day. For all of us." She then looked around, "Where is Roland? I brought some wine for him but I can't find him."

"Henderson is here, the two of them headed upstairs to be able to hear each other," explain Jeremus.

Haydee nodded and grabbed on of the wine jug saying, "Well I'll take this upstairs to him. I sure they might run out."

Slowly Haydee forced her way away from the and through the crowd again towards the stairs to the second floor. After arriving on the top of the stairs, she could see the door of Roland's was slightly open casting a sliver of light across the hallway's floor.

"What do you mean "it would be unfair"?" Said a voice from inside the room. Haydee recognized it as Count Henderson's.

"It would be unfair for me to have a relationship with anyone, because I could go back." Came another voice, Roland's. "Even Haydee."

"You mean back to our world?" Asked Henderson.

"Yes," sighed Roland. "And can't do that to her, to anyone! I just… can't."

Henderson sat in a chair and looked at Roland, "You keep talking about it like it is a sure thing Roland. That a way exists and we just have to find it."

"So what if doesn't exist, I am not even sure if I want to go back," admitted Roland.

"You're not sure?" Asked Henderson.

Roland sighed distressed, "I am always unsure. Over the past three year I have been debating in my mind what I should do if we find a way back. When I make up my mind to go back, I find something here that tempts me to stay and when I decide to stay I find something that makes me want to go back." He rubbed his head, "Every time I make a decision I change my mind the next day…" He shook his head, "It's pathetic…"

"Maybe," said Henderson, "Or maybe you are thinking about it to much." Roland looked at Henderson who held his ground. "Do we know for a fact we can go back? Maybe we can't even go back. Has that crossed your mind?" Roland looked to the ground, avoiding Henderson's glance. Henderson continued, "The fact of the matter is we do not know anything about how to get back, at all. For all we know we might be able to come and go from each world whenever we wish." Henderson laughed lightly, "Getting the best of both worlds, eh?"

Roland was not amused, and Henderson stopped laughing and leaned up in the chair and started again, slowly, "I came here about six years ago. Before I arrived," Henderson chuckled, "I was an accountant. Some low desk jockey, for a big company I was never going to rise up in. Not much to look forward to in life, and not much to lose. And then I arrive here and all of a sudden, I am a Count, in charge of my own men my own fortune and destiny. I have a lot to give up if I decided to go back, and I often struggled with the question like you."

Henderson then looked at Roland hard and said, "But after a while I decided something: until the way back is found, until we know the exact location and the exact time, I will live in Calradia as if there is no way back." He then leaned back and added, "And I haven't worried about it since. In fact, I have begun to court someone…" Added Henderson, almost bragging, but Roland was not interested in the boast.

Henderson then stood up and let his goblet on the table, "You speak of unfairness, Roland," he then walked to the window, "Well about being unfair to yourself? This impassiveness is only going to work against you in the long run." He turned to Roland again and saw he was still looking at the ground lost in thought. "And either way, you are being unfair to someone no matter what you do."

Roland looked Henderson confused, "You have family back at home right?" Roland nodded, "Then if you stay you will be unfair to them, but if you go back, then you will be unfair to your people here. No matter what you are unfair to someone, but what you are doing right now is being unfair to everyone, including yourself. So quit it, I don't want you growing old and regretting your inactive life."

With that Henderson turned and headed for the door, "I have to go, Roland. The king wants to leaving first thing in the morning, and he wants everything ready to leave before he awakes," Henderson rolled his eyes, "And I am the one who has to do it."

Henderson turned back to Roland still were he was, "Take care of yourself, Roland." He then smiled, "I'll let you know if find anything on Francis." He took another step, and added, "And please… don't get in another fight to the death like today. I still have a debt to repay, and it's hard to do that when you are dead."

With that, Henderson opened the door and left Roland in the room alone, still in turmoil in what the count had said. After he closed the door, Henderson turned and found the scared young women standing against the hallway wall. Surprise to see each other, the two stared calmly at each other, neither one breaking the silence of this awkward moment.

Finally Henderson creaked a grin, "Hear anything good?" Haydee looked at Henderson, ashamed of her actions. But Henderson did not mind, "How much did you hear?" Haydee did not answer, but her look of shame only grew. "Enough, huh?" Assumed Henderson. The Count then sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her, "I guess if someone had to find out, I am glad it is you." Haydee smiled a little, the phrase of trusted lessened the feeling of guilt she had.

"Take care of Roland," said Henderson walking past her, "He expects to much of himself sometimes… It's like he believes he is immortal or something."

"The company might think that after today," Haydee wanted to say it but kept it to herself. Instead she just nodded. Henderson smiled again, "Thanks," and began to walk down the stairs out of the inn.

Inside the room Roland heard nothing of the discussion that transpired outside in the hall. He was to busy with his thoughts to apply any heed to the room around him. After taking a breath in, and placing his hand on his fore head, he walked out to the window and looked out onto the city, not noticing the city itself at all. He just looked for the sake of changing his view. After a few moments of thoughts rushing his head, sighed heavily, Henderson had just complicated the issue. In truth, he had forgotten all about his family and the strain his leaving might have done to them. He had just focused on what was happening in Calradia. And then there was the issue with Haydee. Actually it came as no real surprise as Roland thought back, she did seem attached to Roland in more then friendly way, but now that her feelings were reinforced by Henderson, it only added more to ponder about.

Shaking his head, Roland decided to go outside for some air. Leaving the room, Roland was greeted by an empty hallway, and he walked down the stairs to the common room. As he forced his way through the crowd he passed the innkeeper who caught his attention, "Oi, Roland." The captain stopped and listened to the man, "There was a red haired 'young lady here earlier asking for ya. I says that ya was busy, so she gives me a message to tell ya."

"What was it?"

"'Till" next time, captain." That's what she said," said the innkeeper.

"I see," said Roland lightly, "thank you." And with that he continued outside into the city. That phrase alone confused Roland, he assumed it was Ali, but she never called him "captain"

Stepping out of the inn, Roland breathed in the cool brisk air feeling it fill his warm lungs. Sighing heavily, Roland begun to walk his gaze at the ground but not focusing on anything. In his thoughts Roland lost tract of time and where he was going. After about a half hour a figure seemed to appear in front of Roland's path from to the inn. Roland did not notice the figure, until he say it's boots on the ground in front of him. Slowly lifting his head up, he looked at the figure and said, "Excuse me."

But the figure did not move. Instead, the person replied, "Are you that tired from our fight that you can't even look at me?"

Roland's head shoot up, "Sonadel," said Roland surprised to see the young lady. Behind her was her chambermaid from before and two guards dressed in white and red with three black swords, the emblem of the Count Grainwad. "Where did you come from?"

"I was planning to visit you at the inn, but it seems you have saved me half of the trip." She then turned to her maid and said, "I would like to speak to Roland private, please." The maid nodded, and began to pull the two bodyguards away from the two of them. When they were out of range of their voices Sonadel begun, "I wanted to thank you, again."

"It work out in the end," said Roland shrugging. He noticed her shift her weight on her feet, and had to ask, "How is the leg?"

"Sore, and a pain to hide," she said smiling. "But compared to how it could have turned out, I could have been a lot worst." Roland nodded, the statement was true for him and the Wolves. A simple dislocated arm seemed easy in comparison to what other outcomes were possible.

"So what are you planning to do now?" Asked Roland. "Do you plan to join a band of mercenaries after all?"

Sonadel turned her side to Roland and looked to the sky, sighing she shook her head, "No Roland. I have decided I still have much to learn, before I can join any company."

"You are not a bad fighter," said Roland rubbing his arm in remembrance.

Sonadel smiled, "It's not in fighting that I need to improve in." She turned and faced Roland, "It is my judge of character that I need to work on." She sighed, "I let myself become a puppet for someone else, someone who was willing to use me for there own desires and place blame on me whenever he wanted."

"We all make mistakes," argued Roland.

"Yes, but it was not just me who suffered from it. Two of your wolves where kidnapped because of me. Because I did not have the courage to stand up against Count Klagrus." She turned and added, "And because of that, I do not feel that I am ready… at least not yet."

Roland nodded, this was something she needed to work out on her own. There was nothing he or anyone else could do.

"Do you intend to give up the fighting?" Asked Roland.

Sonadel did not reply right away, but slowly turned her head back up to the sky, "I was tempted to… but Henderson talked me out of it."

"Henderson?" Asked Roland surprised.

Sonadel nodded, "Yes. He said it would be a shame for a skilled fighter to give up so early in their tourney career." She turned and smiled lightly, "And with Xerina still unmasked, I see no reason to why I should not continue." Roland smiled back, happy for the lady.

"But I am afraid that I need another favor from you Roland." She admitted. She paused, "My father wants me to start courting."

"Courting?"

Sonadel nodded, "yes. I have been delaying and making excuses for the past couple of years now… but now my father is practically forcing me to start."

"I see," said Roland, still unsure where he fit in this. "I suppose Count Montewar will be glad to hear that."

"Count Montewar is the only count stubborn enough to court me," explained Sonadel. "And I have no desire to court him back."

"Then where does that leave you?"

"In a troubling situation, and that is why I need your help."

"In what? You just said you wouldn't join the Wolves."

"That is not what I meant." Sonadel then began to pace, "Henderson informed me that the counts seem to think that we are courting each other."

Roland's eyebrow raised, "Really?"

"Yes, and in hindsight our meetings certainly could have given that effect to them." She then smiled, "And Henderson also suggested that we continue this little ruse."

"Henderson said that?" Asked Roland not fully surprised.

"He told me that you are not one to court anyone as well. And made the suggestion that we…" she paused again, as taken aback by what she said next, "court each other."

"What?" Exclaimed Roland.

"A fake courtship," clarified Sonadel. "It sounds farfetched, but it works for both of us. I get the freedom to do what I wish, as well as easing my father's desires, and you get the label of being taken if you will. And thus avoiding the eyes of a eligible bachelor."

Roland rubbed his chin with his left hand and thought about what she said. It was like she said, farfetched. But there also the feeling that it would work, because no one would do it.

"What would I have to do?" Asked Roland thinking about the plan.

"All that we would have to do is send a few letters to each other every month, and occasionally visit each other within the year. Nothing more then that, Roland." She added.

Roland looked to the ground and pondered the idea. It was clever idea, but he still had reservations about it. In truth, he had secretly liked the attention he was receiving, (with a few exceptions such as Lady Elina), but with this plan he would have to say goodbye that that. Sighing heavily, Roland rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know…"

Sonadel turned to look at him, "Please," she asked, the first time he heard sincerity in her voice, "I went through with your plan," she smiled, "Will you help me with mine?"

For a moment Roland remained still, taken aback by the sudden emotion from Sonadel. It was the first time she had lowered her hard exterior and asked for something politely, he guessed. It must have meant a lot for her.

Giving in to her proposition he sighed lightly again, "Alright. I will be your," he smiled, "courter."

Sonadel sighed relieved, "Good." She then held out her hand, "I look forward to our future relationship, Roland."

Roland took her hand, "Likewise." He then laughed, "Let me know the next time Xerina is in a tournament, and I will be happy to stop by. And maybe we will be able to resolve our draw."

"I would enjoy that Roland," she then glanced at Roland's arm, "after our wounds heal, of course."

"Of course," agreed Roland shifting his right arm in its sling. Sonadel turned and caught a glimpse of her maid, who was signaling something to her.

"I must return to the castle, now. I have been away too long."

"Alright," said Roland. "Stay out of trouble."

"Stay safe," countered Sonadel. "And best of luck, Roland of the Wolves." With that, she returned to her maid and bodyguards and began to walk back to the castle. Roland watched them leave in silence, wondering what Sonadel was thinking about.

Once the Lady's group disappeared into the night, Roland turned to head back to the inn, his mind at ease, mostly because he had forgotten all about the talk he had with Henderson.

As he approached the inn, he saw a figure outside the inn on one of the benches his head in a book he held in his lap. It was Jeremus, no doubt partied out and needed to escape. "How are the men?" Asked Roland breaking Jeremus's concentration.

"The light drinkers are dropping like flies, sir. Leaving only the seasoned drinkers awake. Klethi is still up, but I have a felling that she will pass out soon."

Then a loud voice from a open window above their heads, it was Klethi's voice: "'ey yall! I just ya ta know that I's am havn a fun tim—" her voice was cut off by a loud *thud* and a round of chuckles room the other patrons of the inn.

Jeremus exhaled sharply, closed his book and grunted himself on his feet and off the bench, "I better go check on her."

Roland nodded, "Be careful."

"Oh, Roland." Said Jeremus remembering something he was suppose to tell him. "Before you go to bed, please talk with Haydee sir." With that one phrase, the entire discussion and feeling he had when spoke with Henderson returned with full force. It made Roland just stare blankly at Jeremus. "I think she was rattled today, after seeing her hero die before her eyes."

"I'm… her hero?"

Jeremus nodded, "I reckon you are more then that sir."

Roland nodded, so Jeremus suspected what Henderson did as well. "Where is she?"

"On the roof," said the surgeon pointing to the top of the inn, "looking at the stars." He then pointed to an alley to the side of the inn, "there is a ladder over there."

"Thanks," sighed Roland slowly walking to the alley and saw the ladder. Walking to it, he paused in thought, "This day just doesn't want to end…" his whispered. After another second of waiting, Roland carefully began to ascend the ladder up towards the rooftop.

After arriving at the top, Roland saw Haydee's figure on the other end of the roof. Slowly transferring from the ladder to the roof, Roland carefully walked on the lightly slanted surface.

From her perch, Haydee stayed staring at the stars as the sounds of Roland's footsteps behind her. She knew it was Roland because she could hear his three limps on the ladder behind her. Sitting beside her, Roland carefully lowered himself and scooted himself forward to the end of the roof until his feet were hanging off the edge of the roof. After a second, Roland said, "How are the stars?"

"Quiet… and rather dim tonight…" said Haydee.

"I see… that's too bad," he said looking to see if Haydee's description was accurate.

Another slow moment passed between the two of them with silence. Haydee broke away from the star's gaze and swallowed hard. "Roland… I have to tell you something…" she said practically forcing the words out. Roland also turned his gaze away from the stars and looked at Haydee. "I… overheard… you and Henderson…"

"I see," said Roland unsure of what to say to that, "how much did you hear?"

"Most of it…" said Haydee. "You spoke the word "world" often."

"So you know…" said Roland.

She nodded slowly afraid Roland was going grow angry with her for spying on him, but the rage never came. Instead Roland seemed very impassive at the whole revelation. Was he happy that he long kept secret was finally known to one of his company, was it that his rage had boiled over into not caring, too tired to care, or a combination of all or none of those things.

"You are not angry?" She asked checking.

He shook his head, "No Haydee. I am not mad…" he said half smiling. "I just never thought I would have that secret revealed to anyone…" "Which seems rather stupid to think now," he thought.

Haydee looked at Roland, while not fully understanding completely what the secret was, she knew it meant a lot to Roland and Henderson, and perhaps more. It now made her curious, and with the knowledge that Roland was not made at her, she decided to pry further, "Roland, could you tell me… what is a "world"?"

"A world?" Asked Roland perplexed by the question. He laughed, "Well you see a world is like…" but his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the words to describe it. He couldn't believe he have so much trouble with the word. "Well," begun Roland again, "A world is like a… different land."

"Like a island, or continent?"

"Sort of… A world is like that but…" he had to stop and change his thinking. "Ok, imagine a world is like a ball."

"A ball?" said Haydee doubting Roland.

"Yes! A giant ball so large it is almost so large no one can walk across it in their lifetime."

"I see, so your "world" isn't flat?"

"Neither is yours."

Haydee looked at Roland with disbelief, "What are you talking about?"

"Your world is flat, Haydee. I can promise you that." Haydee's look did not change. "Ok, have you ever seen a ship leave port and out into open seas?"

"Several times, when I visited Shariz," nodded Haydee.

"Do you recall when a ship get out to port, the hull slowly disappears first while the sails are one of the last things to disappear?" She nodded. "While that is because the surface of your world is round."

Haydee was unsure what to think about the statement, it went against everything she knew, but Roland seemed so sure of himself, and his explanation made sense, to a degree. But that is not what confused her, "Wait, why did you call Calradia a "world"?"

"Because it is a different world then mine, Haydee. My world is called Earth and we have a completely different geography then Calradia, different cultures and even different times."

"Different times?"

"Yeah," said Roland, "In my world we have already had this time." Roland looked at Haydee and saw he had lost her, "Ok, what is the date of this year."

"1256," replied Haydee with a shrug. (I am guessing with this age).

"Well the date I am from is in the 2000's. I am from eight hundred years in the future."

"Really," asked Haydee amazed.

Roland nodded, "I know it is hard to believe, but I am not lying."

Haydee turned her head to the ground several feet below where they were, she was still confused as to exact picture of the word "world" but she understood enough to know it was different. Very different.

Then a question came to her, "How come you would not tell any of us?"

Roland shook his head, "It was not the fact I wouldn't, its that I couldn't. I was worried I could not trust anyone with this knowledge."

"Not even me," asked Haydee, hurt by the lack of trust. She had trusted Roland with her most important secret so easily, why could he. "Besides you shared it with Henderson."

"That's different Haydee, he is in the same boat as me…" admitted Roland. "And I could not trust anyone with this, not even you."

"Why?"

"Because Haydee I was afraid of losing your respect, or fearing me…" admitted Roland. Haydee stared at Roland, and saw this frightened him to say. "When I first arrived to this world, I was almost burned alive at the stake… as a witch. Just because I had arrived from my world, the people of the first I stopped in wanted to kill me, because I was different." He sighed, "I was worried it would happen again… but this time with people I care about. And I couldn't risk that."

"You wouldn't have lost me," turned Haydee.

"There was no way I could know that, Haydee." He looked her in the eyes, "Can you look at me and say you would believe any of this if you were not ease dropping in on us?" Haydee could not argue against that point, it would have sound farfetched to her.

"I guess not… And I see your point."

"But it doesn't matter now," sighed Roland, "You know now, and believe me it seems."

"Yes," said Haydee returning her gaze to the ground, after a moment of silence, Haydee hesitantly asked, "What is like?" She looked at him and added, "Your world I mean."

Roland paused, "why would you like to know that?"

Haydee shrugged, this was the first time her captain talking about his home, it made her wonder what it was like.

"Well," started Roland unsure where to begin, "In my world we have explored all of it. We have devices called cell phones that allow us to communicate to each other from really far away," and for the next couple of minutes Roland went into detail as best he knew to describe what he was explain to Haydee.

After Roland explained what he could, Haydee asked, "Will you ever go back?"

Roland turned his head to the stars, and sighed distressed. What Haydee overheard was true, he was tormented by this question, she could see it in his eyes. With everything he told her, she could imagine it would be difficult.

"I don't know…" he finally said shaking his head. "I have too much to lose if I go back… but I miss home…" He turned to the horizon now completely dark, "It is like I need a reason to stay…"

"Could I be that reason?" Thought Haydee to herself, not brave enough to say it. She reasoned he had enough on his mind, and didn't need her confession; at least not tonight. Both of them were tired, and no doubt it was affecting their minds. Then a yawn snuck past Haydee's mouth, and Roland followed suit with a much longer and louder yawn.

"I guess I better get to bed, it's been a long day," sighed Roland. He then stood up and held his hand out to help her up, "for both of us." Haydee took the hand and both stood up on the roof, and headed back to the ladder.

As they approached the ladder, Haydee smiled, "I guess tomorrow I start leaning how to be a steward, huh?" She asked trying to end to conversation in a good light.

"Oh, I don't know… I was thinking of promoting you actually," smiled Roland.

Haydee stopped were she was on the roof, after a few more steps Roland turned back and smiled, as she exclaimed, "What?"

He nodded, "I was thinking more like Lieutenant."

"Wha–really?" She asked surprised. "What brought this on?"

"Nearly dying today was a start," said Roland shifting his arm in the sling, "after that, I realized I had no second in command. No one to lead the Wolves, when I go…" he then realized how morbid that sounded and added, "If I go."

Haydee took a step, "Why me?"

"Because, you are popular with the men, you're educated, you can read and write, and you have proven you are loyal to the company by staying with us." He then shrugged lightly, "I cannot think of anyone else who could fit the part."

"But," protested Haydee, "I know nothing of tactics or how to lead men."

"I am not saying you will not have to learn anything, and I can train you in those skills."

Haydee shook her head, "Can I think this over? I can't think straight tired."

Roland smiled and walked to the ladder, "Sure, I right there with you." Getting on the ladder, and taking a step down, he stopped and looked at Haydee, and added, "I would appreciate it if you kept my world a secret, Haydee."

"Roland, In the three years I was with you, you never once told anyone else about me. Even Henderson, and you trust him." She smiled, "The least I can do is return the favor."

Roland smiled back, "Good to hear. I know I can trust you."

Slowly the two descend to the ground and entered the inn only to find passed out bodies littering the floor, some of them Wolves and some of them not. And the two made there way tiptoeing through the bodies towards their rooms. After a quick goodnight to each other, Roland entered his room and to his bed. He did not even take off his clothes, but just lowered himself to the bed and rested his head.

Normally, with all that happened within the last couple of hours, Roland would have had trouble sleeping with his mind in turmoil. But he was too tired, and within minutes he lost his senses to sleep, at long last this tournament was over.

End Notes

One Year!

It was been one official year since I started writing this story! In hindsight I was unsure of how this story would do. I have to admit, this is one of my favorite stories rereading it and looking for mistakes. I am not sure if that means my story is that good, or that I am just really narcissistic… I hope not the latter.

Anyway some fun facts: As of today the story has reached 6,188 views, (I am not sure how that compares to other fanfic's.) The most viewed chapter, (apart from the first thru third) is the fourth chapter (The Warband of Wolves, and it beat the third in views) no surprise the prologue chapters are probably the weakest part of the story… And the most viewed chapter for a companion, (not combining chapters), is Ymira's, no real surprise there, now I rather regret not making her story more unique like Deshavi's and Klethi's. Oh well, maybe I well do a revamp later.

The End of the Arc.

Now that the tournament is over I can get back to the main plot, maybe. Haha.

Cheers

Indogma.


End file.
